Misunderstood
by Toffeecrisp
Summary: When Charles James leaves the army to take up a new post working with ex-colleagues in North Wales he's not expecting events in his past to catch up with him.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

The hotel bedroom door closed behind him. He had edged it inch by inch towards the catch to prevent it clicking and disturbing her from her sleep. For a moment he leaned back against the door and closing his eyes took a deep breath. He couldn't help thinking that the term 'cold light of day' had never been more apt. The grey light flooding in from the window at the end of the hotel corridor was harsh and unforgiving, exposing the sordidness of the day after the night before. It was six o'clock in the morning, he had drunk more last night than he had for a long while and he could feel the beginnings of a dull ache at the back of his head. He had said and done things that were quite out of character and woken to the realisation that he was pretty ashamed of himself. As he made his way towards the lift, pulling on his jacket and combing his fingers through his hair, he was in no doubt that he was running away.

She heard the door shut. He had tried to be quiet but she had woken from a light sleep to hear and feel the rustlings of the bedcovers and the unmistakeable sound of someone trying to find their clothes and get dressed in a darkened room. She could have turned over and spoken to him but she didn't want to. If he wanted to say goodbye, then let him make the first move. As she heard him walking towards the door she realised he meant to slip away unnoticed. There was some consolation in knowing that at least his feelings mirrored her own and she wouldn't have to make polite small talk or worse still, pretend to be happy. It was better this way; she wouldn't ever have to see him again.

X-X-X-X

Charles James stood on the terrace at Nant Glyn House breathing in the clean, crisp air and taking in the magnificent view of the lawns gently sweeping down to the edge of the lake and beyond it the mountains of North Wales, their peaks obscured this morning by low cloud. Even on a day like this when rain was threatening and the darkening sky lent a brooding feel to the valley, he was impressed by its splendour. He liked to come out here by himself for a short time each morning, drink his first cup of coffee in peace and reconnect with nature. It was June but there was still a chill to the early morning breeze up here in the mountains. He zipped up his fleece and cupped his hands around the coffee mug.

It had been two months since his arrival here. A chance meeting four months ago at a regimental reunion with a former colleague, Peter Crosby, known to all as 'Bing', had introduced him to the idea of leading management training courses at an activity centre that Bing owned in North Wales. Bing had set up the business in partnership with another former army colleague, Adrian 'Ade' Morton, three years ago. The venture had gone well and it had been fortunate that on the occasion that he and Charles had run into each other, their needs had coincided. Bing was in need of another course leader as his third leader had just handed in his notice and Charles was at a difficult stage in his life: his divorce was about to be finalised and he was shortly to become homeless. Charles and Bing had served together during Charles' second tour of Afghanistan and crossed paths a couple of years later during a posting in Yorkshire. When Charles had made the decision to leave the army, rather than take a desk job after being injured during his fourth tour, fate had dealt him a lucky turn in the form of Bing's offer.

"You'll get full board and lodging at Nant Glyn. We had the old stable block converted into self-contained units for employees, so you'll get some privacy and there are no worries about having to share the ablutions with guests." He had assured him.

For Charles the job offer had been a lifeline, a chance to escape from the pressures and uncertainties that were weighing him down. With the sale of their family home and the need to provide financial security for his son, Sam, following his divorce from Rebecca, he had been facing the possibility of returning to live with his parents in Bath a prospect he hadn't relished at almost thirty years of age having lived independently since leaving home for university at eighteen.

He had been here two months and knew he had made the right decision. He loved the country, got on well with his colleagues and the other Nant Glyn staff and was enjoying the challenge of meeting and working with a new and diverse group of delegates every Monday. To him, the team building exercises were akin to taking a bunch of new recruits fresh from basic training and moulding them into a Section. During his last tour in Afghanistan, he had been the officer commanding Two Section which had been largely composed of new recruits on their first tour and they had worked together for months to work, think, and function as a team. Of course, Bing and Ade had been at pains to stress to him that he couldn't treat course delegates like squaddies. Firmness, authority and taking command of situations where necessary were well and good, but he should never lose sight of the fact that his charges each week were also paying customers.

"The calm before the storm!" Bing observed aloud as he strolled across the terrace to join Charles, a steaming mug of tea in his hand. He was ten years older than Charles, shorter and stockier in build and having suffered from thinning hair since his mid-twenties he had now stopped fighting the inevitable and kept his head clean shaven. He was blessed with charm, always had a word of welcome for everyone with a twinkle in his eye and was universally liked. Charles often thought he could have been taken for a publican rather than an ex-army major, such was his manner.

Bing was a family man and the move to Nant Glyn had involved bringing his wife and two young children with him. They now occupied the Lodge House a quarter of a mile away down the driveway. Sarah, Bing's wife, was a strong, supportive and practical woman, skills well-honed after thirteen years of being an army wife. She had joked to Charles that uprooting to the wilds of North Wales had been one of the easiest choices she had ever had to make. The three years she had spent in the Lodge House with her husband coming home from work every day were the most settled she had enjoyed since their marriage.

Hearing Sarah talk about her life this way Charles was forced to make comparisons with the life he and Rebecca had shared. It was clear to him now that she had never been cut out for life as a military wife and he had never been cut out for any other type of life. They had loved one another once but this hadn't been enough to sustain their relationship when they were frequently separated for long periods. He loved Sam with all his heart and knew that Rebecca was a good mother but she'd never wanted to be a single parent. She was settled with Rob now, a Bristol based accountant, and Sam seemed content. Charles drove down to the West Country every other weekend, collected Sam and either stayed with his parents or took him off somewhere for a night or two. He would like to have been able to skype him but internet coverage was still very patchy in this part of the world and even mobile reception couldn't be relied upon. Sometimes he simply had to resort to the landline or even put pen to paper and write to him but knowing that Rebecca was likely to be the one reading the letter aloud always made Charles feel inhibited and he kept the letters short. His single regret in working at Nant Glyn was the distance from his son but he reasoned that the distance would only serve to make him work harder to keep contact with Sam and continue to be a proper father.

Bing stood next to Charles, lost in thought, drinking his tea and admiring the view. Like Charles, he dressed for work in khaki combats and boots teamed with the red Nant Glyn House branded T shirts and jackets which bore the embroidered dragon logo. The evidence of their military backgrounds and training in both their appearance and manner always seemed to be well received by those who attended the courses. Many of the male participants seemed to enjoy the physical aspects of the course and some regarded it as a chance to prove their mettle to those who had experienced more testing conditions. Some of the ladies appeared to derive comfort from knowing that everything was well organised and they were in safe hands. Occasionally, participants were intimidated, thinking that everything would be run on military lines and they would fail to measure up. In situations like these Bing was invaluable. He had the knack of putting people at their ease and making sure they realised that the aim of the course was to challenge them to develop and use teamwork skills and not to overwhelm them or push them beyond their capabilities. He always stressed to everyone, colleagues and participants alike, that he wanted people to enjoy the experience and it was obvious to all that he certainly did.

Ade, Bing's business partner, a former infantry Captain, was a few years older than Charles and unmarried although he had a long-term girlfriend, Giselle, who worked in London. She occasionally appeared at Nant Glyn at weekends but more often than not, Ade disappeared on a Friday evening almost as soon as the last participant had left and didn't return until late on Sunday evening or occasionally at the crack of dawn on a Monday. Charles knew that Ade was back as he had heard his Range Rover pulling up outside his flat shortly before midnight last night.

"How many are we expecting today?" Charles enquired.

"Twenty four," Bing replied. "Fourteen men and ten women from a recruitment company." He deliberately paused to correct himself. "Sorry, I'd better put it the way their M.D. kept stressing to me when I pitched to him. They're not recruiters they're management consultants." He raised his eyebrows and Charles smiled. They were used to pandering to the little whims of their clients. "Anyway," Bing continued, "it'll be the usual, they'll be here in time for lunch and we'll kick off with the introductions at two o'clock."

Charles nodded. With only a few variations, courses followed the same format. The delegates arrived late morning in time for tea and coffee, registered and were assigned their accommodation with time to settle in before lunch was served in the dining room at twelve thirty. At two o'clock everyone assembled in the lounge for the main introductions, the course outline and to be split into their teams for the week. Bing, Ade and Charles would each be in charge of eight team members.

"We'll meet with Ade in the office as at eight thirty, OK?"

Charles nodded in response and Bing sauntered across the lawn towards the lake to check on the raft building materials they would be using tomorrow. He glanced at his watch. It was eight fifteen and he turned back towards the house to make his way to the office and check over the paperwork for this week's course.

Nant Glyn House dated from the 1870's and had been built as the country home of a wealthy slate quarry owner on the profits from the boom in demand for roofing slate during the late nineteenth century. A sold Victorian villa built of local stone and previously used as a hotel, it boasted fifteen twin guest rooms and a range of small meeting rooms as well as the requisite dining facilities, guest lounge and a small well-stocked bar in which delegates liked to congregate at the end of the day. Charles made his way around to the gravelled courtyard at the rear of the house and entered via the main door. The office was situated on the left hand side. When he pushed open the door, he saw Ade standing with his back to him looking at the course details pinned to the notice board.

Ade glanced over his shoulder as he heard Charles enter the room.

"Morning Charles. Good weekend?"

Charles had spent part of the weekend out on the hills enjoying a solitary stroll along the Nantlle Ridge. He never advised anyone else to walk alone in the mountains, being all too aware of the dangers that lay there for those inexperienced, ill-prepared or ill-equipped to deal with rapidly changing conditions that could be encountered. When he had been offered the post at Nant Glyn he had been concerned that it might be beyond the physical capabilities of someone unfit for active service, but Bing had assured him he wouldn't be leading teams of people on mountain treks and that orienteering and short navigation exercises over simple terrain would be the limits of what was expected on that score.

On Saturday it had been a lovely, warm sunny day with clear blue skies and the lure of the mountains had been too great. He generally restricted his serious hill walking to days like these when the weather was fine and he could allow plenty of time for his journey. The leg injury from Afghanistan which had brought his active service days to an end wouldn't allow him to undertake too many walks like this and he knew he would probably pay for this day's activity for most of the following week with pain and stiffness in his lower leg but he was willing to bear this if only to prove that he could still challenge himself and succeed.

After taking care to advise Bing and Sarah of his plans and intended route, he had set out on his walk making the steep ascent on the well-worn path from Rhyd-Ddu to Y Garn. He'd enjoyed the undulations of the ridge and the spectacular views out towards Anglesey and across the Irish Sea. These were the days that helped him get his mind back into focus and sort out the things in life that really mattered to him. In these moments he could set aside all the anguish and frustration that had surrounded him in the months following Afghanistan, the injury and the divorce from Rebecca and focus upon what was most important now and in the future; being a good father to Sam. Nothing else mattered.

"Yes, it was good thanks," Charles responded to Ade's question about the weekend, trying to forget about the aching in his right leg. "How was London?"

As if in answer Ade yawned and shook his head. "Busy, as always. Giselle wanted to go to some new art installation at a place on the South Bank. Some weird light arrangement supposed to represent birth and regeneration. Buggered, if I know what it was all about, then a vegan dinner party with some of her work colleagues followed yesterday by a local community music festival. Hippies, folk bands and organic food stalls. Do I look like the type of bloke who would arse about in a kaftan?"

Charles had to smile. At thirty three years of age, Ade Morton was the archetypal British army officer. Tall, slim, blond-haired and blue eyed, he had the swagger and confidence that only a public-school education could purchase and the self-deprecating sense of humour that only served to underline how comfortable he felt in his own skin. Although good manners had been instilled in him from an early age and he certainly knew how to behave on every occasion, he was nevertheless unafraid to voice his true opinion on any subject if asked. It wasn't the first time Charles had heard Ade moaning about the social activities that Giselle inflicted on him at weekends but he reasoned that for all his protestations he was still prepared to drop everything and drive the two hundred miles to London each weekend, just to spend a couple of days with her which spoke volumes about the strength of their relationship

"So, who have we got this week, then?" Charles asked.

Ade looked back at the notice board, "A company called CSF Management Consultants. Bing pitched for this one when I was on holiday with Giselle. Know anything about them?"

Charles was on the point of repeating Bing's words about them being a recruitment agency when something began to nag at his brain, a distant memory in which he felt sure he had heard the company name before.

"Where are they based?" he asked.

Ade scoured the board for information before announcing, "London area by the looks of it with a number of branches spread around the capital and south east."

Charles stepped forward and looked at the information. Bing had already split the delegates up into three groups of eight headed by one of the leaders. Each group had been designated by colour: red, blue and yellow. Charles was the leader of the blue group. He ran his finger down the list of delegates in the groups looking at each name in turn. As he reached the last but one in his own blue group he paused. With an unpleasant jolt of recollection, the full circumstances in which he had heard of CSF Management Consultants returned to him. He stared at the name lying next to his finger. How the hell could that have happened? A name he had tried to erase from his memory; Kate Allen. He screwed up his eyes as he grimaced in disbelief at his bad luck and muttered under his breath, "Shit!"


	2. Chapter 2

**_Thank you for all your lovely reviews. I really appreciate you all taking the time to read and comment and I've enjoyed hearing a few theories about the plot. Please rest assured, I would never write an Our Girl story without the wonderful Molly and so here she is….._**

**Chapter Two**

Molly Dawes felt nauseous. She had never been a particularly good passenger on car journeys and sitting in the back of Mike Robinson's MPV, littered with the remnants of many school runs, discarded drinks bottles, sweet wrappers, pencils, odd socks and white dog hairs plastered all over the seats, not to mention Mike's erratic driving and dubious choice of classical music radio station, she felt an uncomfortable knot in the pit of her stomach beginning to develop.

She didn't know why they couldn't have travelled by train. She much preferred it. To her mind, if Kevin Jones could fork out the money to send twenty four members of staff from CSF Management Consultants on a week-long management team building course, surely he could afford three rail tickets. It had probably been Mike who had put a spoke in that particular wheel, pointing out that the nearest train station to Nant Glyn House was miles away and they'd be much better off taking their own transport. As a non-driver, Molly had been left at the mercy of whichever of her two branch colleagues attending the course would give her a lift. Kate Allen, the Assistant Manager and temporaries controller, said that her husband, Phil, would need the car for work so that had only left Mike, the Branch Manager, who decided that Pam, his wife, could manage for a few days with the Fiesta as he wasn't going to drive all the way to North Wales in such a small car. Looking around her at the state of the car, Molly wondered whether it could have been any worse to be crammed into a small but probably cleaner space.

They had left at six o'clock in the morning as Mike was keen to get out of London before traffic built up and to allow plenty of time to take a break along the way. She had been glad to get out of the car at the services on the M1 although not amused by the white dog hairs that had transferred themselves from the seat to her jacket. A breath of fresh air, a cup of tea and a quick bite to eat had revived her spirits. But now, almost two hours later, caught up in stop-start traffic with time ticking by she began to wish, not for the first time, that she hadn't been asked to attend. She could think of at least four good reasons why she didn't need to be here. Firstly, she didn't like the countryside very much being a city girl born and bred, in fact she would go so far as to say she found too much space around her frightening. Secondly, she had never been to the mountains of North Wales or any other mountainous region of the country, come to that. Thirdly, outdoor activities of the type described in the course literature were a total mystery to her and finally she wasn't part of the management team anyway, still being merely one of the consultants.

Looking at her colleagues, Kate and Mike, Molly was surprised that both of them seemed so keen to go. Kate, a striking red-head, although she had once confessed in an inebriated state at the office Christmas party that it wasn't entirely natural, was in her early thirties with no kids yet, being at pains to stress that she and Phil were waiting for the right time which certainly hadn't been at any time during the three years Molly had known her. She couldn't really imagine that the right time for Kate would ever present itself. She was a fun-loving, sociable, party animal who enjoyed the freedom of being able to dine out whenever the fancy took her, go on expensive holidays to adult only resorts and treat herself to a designer handbag or pair of shoes on a fairly regular basis. If Kate had ever had the opportunity to see Molly's mother, Belinda, coping with the five Dawes children in their overcrowded, untidy house, she felt sure she would have informed Phil there and then that there would never be a right time for children.

It was possible that the life of their manager, Mike, who was in his late thirties, had been married for ten years and was a father to three seemingly demanding daughters of two, five and eight years of age, had also influenced Kate. The office staff were regularly assailed by tales of the domestic trials of the Robinson family. Mike was the type of father who had taken a minute interest in everything his children had done from the moment they entered the world. He regularly made the mistake of believing that an office full of childless women would be enthralled by the tribulations of Emily's potty training, Francesca's struggle with phonics or Phoebe's prowess at netball. However, he was a kind man who shared the benefit of his experience with Molly and genuinely wanted to see her do well. She reasoned that listening to the latest theory on child development or feigning an interest in Francesca's class assembly was a small price to pay for his support.

When Molly had received the email inviting her to attend the course she had assumed it must be a mistake and questioned it with the HR Manager at Head Office. She had been informed, in response, that certain employees with management potential were being invited to attend for the experience.

"That'll be down to Kevin, then," Kate had told her with a knowing look when she had relayed the answer.

At forty six years of age Kevin Jones, the Managing Director and owner of CSF Management Consultants, was the epitome of an East End lad made good. He'd started out as a school leaver, labouring on building sites but he was street-wise and astute and with an ear to the ground and an eye for the main chance and he had quickly discovered that sourcing employees for building projects was a more lucrative way to make a living than lugging a hod laden with bricks up and down a ladder all day. It had taken him a few years of hard grafting rooting out and developing useful contacts but by the time he was twenty one he had established three branches of a recruitment agency supplying contract employees to the construction industry. Realising during the recession in the 1990's that he would need to diversify to survive he had moved into Sales and Finance recruitment and at the start of the millennium had established CSF Management Consultants. He liked to tell people now that the initials CSF stood for Critical Success Factor, something an expensive marketing consultant had advised him to mention in all his corporate literature, but the reality known by him and a few others from the early days of the business was that it represented nothing more impressive than Construction, Sales and Finance.

Four years ago Molly had been working part-time in a dead-end job with no qualifications to her name and with, in her words, 'a tosspot of a boyfriend' employed on a building site who thought getting married at eighteen and pregnant shortly afterwards was a perfectly acceptable career path for a girl like her. When she had called in at the building site office one afternoon needing to speak to him she had seen a poster pinned to the notice board publicising training scheme places for unemployed teenagers and sponsored by CSF Management Consultants. Feeling at a low ebb, dissatisfied with her life, her job, lack of money and most of all her unreliable boyfriend, she had decided to do something to change her situation. She'd made a note of the details and called the number.

The selection day that CSF invited her to attend had been an alien experience. Walking into the central London hotel where the event was taking place, she had felt like a deer caught in the headlights with no idea of what she would be expected to do or whether she would have what it took to be successful. She had wandered from task to task that day unsure whether she was making any impression or doing anything right and looking at everyone else who seemed more keen, motivated and clued-up than her.

It was the moment she had been asked to stand up in front of the group and say why she wanted an apprenticeship with CSF that had been the turning point. To start with she had been flummoxed, having no idea what to say, and had stammered trying to find the right words until she began to recall everything about her life that pulled her down, held her back and prevented her from making something of herself. The words had just tumbled out and when she finished she had looked at everyone in the room staring at her and felt she ought to apologise for making everything in her life sound so depressing. She hadn't seen the man sitting at the back of the room, listening to every word and feeling empathy with her. The man was Kevin Jones and he recognised a kindred spirit.

At the end of the day Kevin had looked over the results and listened to the views of the staff running the selection day. In spite of the fact that Molly hadn't been the highest achiever, he felt a natural affinity with her. He recognised the world she had described and knew he wanted to give her a chance. She got her apprenticeship and started working in the Construction division of the business. She knew builders, took no lip from anyone and was able to deal with demands of site foreman assertively and eventually, with guidance from more experienced colleagues, in a more tactful manner. She learned quickly, she got the job done and Kevin was impressed with the reports that reached his desk. At the end of her twelve month apprenticeship she was promoted and became a fully-fledged consultant. She also moved into the Sales consultancy division of the business and started working with Kate and Mike.

Although recruitment of staff was the primary role of the business, much of her job was really sales related and entailed making and keeping regular contact with clients. She had charm and a natural line in patter that seemed to appeal to them. She was working on developing a more professional image with help from Kate and Mike and she was beginning to see the benefits even if she occasionally let the mask of politeness slip. Kevin hadn't forgotten her and continued to take a more active interest in her than most of his other trainees often popping into the branch if he was in the area or calling her when she'd managed a particularly successful assignment. It was fortunate that Molly liked him or she might have found his interest oppressive. It seemed as if the chief reason for sending Molly on the team building course this week was that Kevin was thinking of promoting her into a supervisory role and thought the course would be a step in the right direction.

Molly's tosspot builder boyfriend had very quickly fallen by the wayside once she had settled into her work placement with CSF. He hadn't seen the point of her trying to improve herself if she was only going to end up at home looking after children and it had soon become apparent that there was no future for them. She hadn't really minded because a world of possibilities was beginning to open up in front of her and she knew there was no place for someone with that attitude in her life now. But then, eighteen months ago, she'd met Rick, a client who'd flattered and charmed her and swept her off her feet in a way she had never experienced before and the emotional roller-coaster of a relationship with him had begun. It hadn't ended well and she was trying her hardest to forget about him now and everything that had happened but it was more difficult than she had imagined. As far as she could see the only good thing about going on a course in the middle of nowhere this week was a chance to get away from everything for a few days.

Now here they were stuck in a traffic jam miles from their destination and with little prospect of arriving on time whilst Mike tapped the steering wheel in time to a stirring classical march and Kate having given up conversation altogether had dozed off in the front seat leaving Molly with nothing to do but stare at the queue of red tail lights stretching into the distance.

X-X-X-X

Charles waited until Ade had left the office after the Monday morning course briefing had finished and Bing was settled at his desk before broaching the subject on his mind.

"Could I possibly ask you a favour, Bing?"

Bing looked up from his laptop, "Fire away."

"It's a bit delicate, actually," Charles began, "but I've met one of the CSF employees in my group before and I'd be more comfortable if you could swap her with someone else for the week." He gazed at Bing wondering how he would react.

"Delicate?" There was just the hint of a smile on his lips.

"Yes, "Charles nodded, "definitely, delicate. We have a prior acquaintance, shall we say."

Bing was clearly amused now; Charles could tell he was resisting the urge to ask more as he picked up the delegate list from his desk, "What's her name?"

"Kate Allen."

Bing crossed through a couple of names on the paper and scribbled a note, "Consider it done but is her presence going to be a problem for you, Charles?"

Charles shook his head, "Of course not. Thanks for that."

"You're welcome, "Bing replied. "Any more confessions?"

Charles forced a smile, "That's it. The only skeleton in my cupboard."

X-X-X-X

Kate awoke with a start as the car bumped along the road.

"Oh, Shit," Mike said trying to pull over to the side, "a bloody puncture, that's all we need now."

He put on his hazard lights, slowed down and stopped as soon as he could. It was a busy A road and traffic continued to whizz past at speed. Mike got out of the car and moved around to the front passenger side to inspect the damage. The tyre was completely flat and would need replacing.

"Sorry, ladies, " he apologised, "you'd better get out and wait on the verge over there." He pointed to the grass bank behind them. Kate didn't look impressed by the suggestion or the fact that the grass was damp and there was a hint of drizzle in the air. Molly knew nothing about cars but decided she would be better employed giving Mike a hand and went with him to unload their bags so that they could get to the spare wheel release handle in the boot. When the spare tyre rolled down onto the road Mike took one look at it and said simply, "Bugger!" The spare tyre was almost as flat as the punctured one and Mike had no foot pump in the car to rectify the matter. There was nothing to be done other than to call for assistance and wait for how ever long it would take someone to arrive.

Ninety minutes later they were finally on their way again, the spare tyre pumped up and the puncture replaced but it was already after twelve thirty and they were still at least sixty miles from their destination. By the time Mike had finally turned off the main road onto the drive of Nant Glyn House it had gone two o'clock and Molly assumed that any chance of getting lunch had disappeared. Her stomach was rumbling and the prospect of having to wait until early evening for a meal wasn't improving her spirits or sense of trepidation about the next few days.

Mike parked up in the courtyard and they retrieved their bags from the boot of the car before making their way into the house. It was deserted in the hall and they had seen no one else outside. From a distance there was the faint sound of a voice speaking and further away the sound of pots and pans and cutlery being moved around in the kitchen. In front of them a door bearing a brass plaque stating 'Lounge' lay open. Mike stepped forward and peered around the door. A member of the Nant Glyn House domestic staff was in the room tidying up and her caught her attention. She wandered out into the hall with him, smiling in welcome.

"Are you the group that was delayed?"

Mike nodded looking sheepish, "Yes, sorry about that. Terrible traffic, you know." Molly and Kate exchanged glances but neither spoke.

"Not to worry," the woman replied, "if you give me your names I'll get you the keys for your rooms and you can take your bags up."

"Has the course started?" Kate asked concerned.

The woman glanced at the hall clock, "Yes, they had the general outline for everyone at two o'clock and now they've gone into their group rooms."

They gave her their names and she wandered off to the office to find them room keys before sending them off upstairs with their bags.

"When you come down, I'll find out which groups you're in," she called after them.

Kate and Molly were glad to discover they were sharing a room. Although, Molly had met other members of CSF at corporate functions, she didn't know anyone else as well as Kate and had been worried she'd have to share with a stranger. They threw down their bags and Kate quickly dragged a comb through her hair and checked her make up in the mirror,

"God, I look a fright," she said pulling a face and examining imaginary bags under her eyes. "I haven't got time to do my make up again, have I?"

Molly sighed, "You look amazing, Kate, you always do."

Kate winked at her, "Remind me why I recommended you for promotion again."

"Did you?" Molly laughed, "I thought it was my natural charm and magnetism that shone through."

"Well, Kevin saw that didn't he and he's a pretty good judge of character." She glanced down at her watch. "We'd better go it's half past two. God knows how much we've missed."

They wandered down into the hall. One of the meeting room doors was standing open and as they reached the bottom step of the stairs a bald-headed man wearing military style khaki combat trousers and a red Nant Glyn House leader T shirt emerged, heading towards the office. He paused on seeing them and gave them a broad smile of welcome his hand outstretched.

"Are you Kate and Molly, by any chance?" He spoke with authority.

Kate stepped forward to shake hands with him, "Yes I'm Kate, sorry about missing the start."

He took her hand, "I'm Bing and it's no problem, you're all here safe and sound now."

Molly was sure from the appreciative look he was giving Kate that he was checking her out and made a mental note to tell her later. It would amuse her and boost her ego, not that she was unduly lacking in confidence about herself.

He turned towards Molly and offered her his hand in welcome.

"Let's get you into your groups and settled, shall we. Can you come this way, Kate?" He led her down the corridor and knocked on one of the doors, spoke a few words to whoever was inside and Kate disappeared. He then returned for Molly and led her in the opposite direction to the right hand side of the building which had a new extension providing some meeting and conference facilities. He knocked on a door to his right and opened it wide calling out,

"Hi, Is Charles here?"

Someone replied and he ushered Molly in. She saw seven other members of staff from CSF sitting around a U-shaped table. Two of the men and one of the women she recognised from a sales conference a few months ago, but there was no sign of a leader. Double doors from the room led onto the paddock outside and she could see the back of a man dressed similarly to Bing standing in the field about fifty yards away preparing materials for an activity.

"Ah, Charles is out there," Bing said looking through the windows. He turned to Molly, "It looks like he'll be back in a moment. Take a seat for now."

He was about to make his way outside to speak to him when the same woman who had greeted Molly, Kate and Mike on arrival came into the room,

"Sorry to interrupt, Bing, but there's a call in the office for you."

He apologised to Molly and followed the woman out of the room.

Molly had barely had time to recount to one of her acquaintances, Melanie Turnbull, the reasons for them being late, before she heard the sound of boots approaching across the gravel.

Charles stepped into the room and glanced around him, instantly clocking the fact that they had gained another person. The woman had her head turned away from him but the moment he spoke she looked around and he saw her. Her green eyes were focused fully upon him. There was a moment of silence as he looked at her and he was conscious of everyone in the room watching him. When he spoke to her he was curt, almost bordering on rude.

"You've missed the icebreaker. Perhaps you could briefly introduce yourself and tell us two unique facts about yourself."

Molly looked at him, taking in his appearance, his imposing height and the breadth of his shoulders, the dark slightly unruly hair, the handsome face with his brown eyes fixed upon her and felt the full, uncomfortable weight of his presence in the room. Her heart was thumping in her chest and she fought to keep her voice steady, conscious of the others listening as she replied,

"I'm Molly Dawes and I'm a consultant working in the Sales division."

He was still staring at her, transfixed. She felt exposed and vulnerable in equal measure and couldn't help herself responding the way she had done when she had been a mouthy teenager at school, out of her depth in some subject and winding up teachers to deflect the attention away from the weakness of her knowledge.

"I _hate_ the countryside." She paused seeing a look of disbelief on his face and feeling further provoked added, "And I've got a tattoo on my arse."

She heard Melanie Turnbull giggle behind her but Charles wasn't smiling.

"If you hate the countryside you've definitely come to the wrong place." There wasn't the slightest hint of amusement in his reply. He looked away from her and around the room at the others before saying,

"Some of you may wish to change your footwear as the ground's a little soft out there. We'll meet in the paddock in five minutes."

Charles moved towards the door and allowed the group to file out one by one. Molly was the last to rise from her seat. With a sinking feeling, she saw that he had deliberately moved to stand in front of the door blocking her exit with his arms folded in front of him and a serious expression on his face. She realised that he wasn't going to let this moment pass without comment. As she drew near he leaned in towards her, conscious of someone else just outside in the corridor and whispered,

"So, how did it happen?"

Molly stared at him, her green eyes wide in alarm, "How did what happen?"

He frowned and the sarcasm in his voice was obvious, "Did you use _deed poll_?"

She shook her head, "I don't know what that is."

Charles sighed and narrowed his eyes. Was she deliberately trying to annoy him? He bent his head to within a few inches of hers, so close that she could feel the warmth of his breath upon her face.

"Well, it seems that you've changed your name. The last time we met you were called Kate Allen."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Molly stared at Charles in silence for a full five seconds before pushing past him and moving out into the hall. He followed at a distance seeing her head upstairs presumably going to her room to change for the next activity. He wore a neutral expression which belied the tumult of his emotions. He was still gazing towards the stairs when Bing walked past and lowering his voice said,

"I saw that Kate Allen woman arriving and sent her off to Ade's group. Everything OK?"

His words barely registered with Charles. After the awkward exchange this morning, Charles didn't want to even begin thinking about how to explain _this_ situation to Bing so he nodded his head and replied,

"Yep. Fine. Thanks very much."

Bing was happy that the plan seemed to have worked and strolled off to join his group outside.

For a moment the hall was empty. Charles knew that the rest of his group would be making their way around to the paddock as instructed but he needed a minute on his own to gather his thoughts. It was a stroke of bad luck that had managed to deposit her here right under his nose, reminding him of his weakness and folly and he was genuinely confused. He'd not expected the situation to be very comfortable but had thought he would be able to avoid her most of the time. Instead, he was now well and truly stuck with her.

Against his better judgment he tried to remember what had happened that night in the hotel but having studiously avoided thinking about it for the past three months he found himself struggling to recall events with any clarity. It was the day that his divorce had been finalised and he'd come up to London to meet Bing while he was in town for another chat about the job at Nant Glyn. Everything might have been alright and passed by without incident if only Rebecca hadn't chosen that afternoon to text him about visiting arrangements for Sam. Sensitivity was not her strong suit and she certainly hadn't thought twice about speaking to him on that day of all days. She'd wanted to rearrange the visits he'd previously agreed and he'd already made plans which he couldn't change. There had been a furious exchange of texts and in the end she'd switched off her phone and refused to correspond further. It had been the final straw in a long, painful process for Charles. When his meeting with Bing was over instead of making his way back to Bath he'd gone into the hotel bar and ordered himself a double scotch.

By the time he'd caught sight of the pretty, dark-haired girl sitting alone at a table in the corner, he'd downed another whisky. It had been a long time since he'd chatted up any woman let alone attempted to pick one up in a bar. In fact, he couldn't remember ever having acted in such a mercenary fashion. It had never been his way. The girl was as far removed in appearance from Rebecca's statuesque, icy blond as was possible. Perhaps it was latent anger about the divorce or simply Dutch courage but he'd found himself drawn to her. The voice of self-restraint that might once have told him to walk away had been silenced by alcohol and instead he had strolled across the room to her and asked if the seat at the table was free.

She had seemed wary but had indicated that she wasn't bothered if he sat with her. It hadn't exactly been encouragement but with his senses dulled by the scotch he hadn't been sufficiently deterred by her manner. On the back of her chair was a jacket on which a name badge was pinned. It looked like she was part of a conference taking place at the hotel. When he asked her, none too subtly, whether she was on her own she said she hadn't been in the mood to go out for dinner with her colleagues and had been killing time. The name badge had said _Kate Allen, CSF Management Consultants_. He'd started a conversation with her and called her Kate. She hadn't corrected him and he'd carried on calling her Kate for the rest of the evening.

They'd sat there drinking for a couple of hours. Most of the conversation had long disappeared from his memory and other parts were at best hazy. He couldn't remember much about her or what they had talked about. One thing was certain he was entirely blank about any conversation between them after they had reached her hotel room or much else that had transpired there. He had a vague memory of undressing and assumed that they hadn't talked much after that. He'd been tired, unused to drinking heavily and he remembered his head spinning as he had lain on the bed. He really didn't want to imagine proceedings after that and guessed she might have been pretty disappointed with him given the state he had been in. When he'd woken at the crack of dawn the next morning in that strangely wide awake drunk state that often followed a heavy bout of drinking, he'd found himself lying next to a woman he barely knew. With the realisation of where he was and what must have happened he had been overcome with regret. He'd slipped away without speaking to her, ashamed of himself and never considered that he would meet her again. Having suffered the mother of all hangovers for the rest of the day rather than pitying himself he had considered it justice for his behaviour.

Looking back now he could see his mistake. It hadn't been her jacket hanging on the chair and she had just allowed the misunderstanding to continue, no doubt having a laugh at his expense. He felt a fool but he also felt annoyed with her. He knew his reasons for behaving so badly and he regretted them but what kind of game had she been playing?

When he'd seen the name Kate Allen on the list this morning he'd realised that it was going to be uncomfortable this week but this was an even more horrible mess and it had shaken him. He'd been expecting to catch sight of her later on, perhaps exchange a few stilted words in passing and then keep out of the way but he'd been shocked to find her sitting with his group, staring at him with an audience to witness that first awkward moment. He hadn't been very professional just now and he hated himself for that but when she'd announced that she was in actual fact someone called Molly Dawes he couldn't let her leave the room without saying something to her. He hadn't expressed himself well and hadn't meant to sound so belligerent. He realised now that she had clearly been just as floored by his unexpected appearance as he had and without having had the benefit of prior warning.

He took a deep breath. This was going to be a long week but he had no choice. He'd simply have to brazen it out somehow, just ignore what had gone before and carry on in a professional manner until Friday when she would leave and it would all be over. He squared his shoulders and turned on his heel to make his way back outside and join the rest of the group.

Molly went upstairs in a daze. As she entered her room she encountered Kate coming out the other way. She smiled at Molly and gushed,

"Hi, what's your leader like? Mine's called Ade and he is most definitely hot. If I wasn't married, he might be in trouble. I think I'm going to like it here. Gotta go!" She waved at Molly and rushed along the landing towards the stairs. Molly had tried to smile in return but her mind was on other matters.

She was still reeling from the shock of seeing Charles again and sitting down on her bed, grateful for a moment's quiet, she decided that if there was one person to blame for this horribly embarrassing situation she was now facing it was 'Rick the Prick' as Kate always referred to him. Rick Davis was a smooth talking, sharp dressing Assistant Sales Manager she'd met eighteen months ago. It had been a cold call that had turned into a hot lead and when they'd met face to face to discuss the recruitment needs in his department, the sparks had flown. He was quick-witted, charming and prepared to splash the cash on a date. He was a social animal with an ever widening circle of friends and acquaintances and was always out and about, keen to meet new people and try new experiences. For the first time in her life she'd felt genuinely flattered and admired by someone rather than a mandatory appendage to an inadequate youth. In her eyes Rick Davis was a success, someone going places in life and she believed from everything he said and did that he wanted her to accompany him.

Molly had always prided herself on being able to spot a bullshitter at ten paces but she'd missed Rick Davis, totally blinded by the aura of affability that surrounded him. It had been the morning of that day, just before she'd set out for the Recruitment Association conference being held in a central London hotel, that she'd discovered Rick had been messing her about, cheating on her with one of the girls in his office and he wasn't going to move in to share the flat that Molly had recently started renting. Molly's decision to move out of the cramped Dawes family home and rent a place of her own had been solely at Rick's suggestion and based on his assertion that they could afford the rent together. He hadn't moved in straight away telling her he was tied into his current shared arrangement for another six weeks but he'd assured her that he'd much rather live with her. He'd encouraged her to go ahead and find somewhere and she'd signed a fixed term six month lease and moved into the flat expecting him to follow shortly. Now, thanks to his betrayal she was stuck in an arrangement she couldn't get out of and couldn't afford and had been dumped rather heartlessly via a brief, spineless text message sent to her by the first man for whom she had ever entertained any serious feelings. That evening, sitting alone in the hotel bar, she had been at the lowest point in her life for the last four years.

When Charles had sauntered over to talk to her having clearly sunk a few at the bar already, she had been indifferent to his attention. He hadn't noticed that she wasn't very keen on his presence and sat himself down when she'd said, "Please yourself," in response to him asking if he could join her. He'd said something about being in the army but glancing at the length of his hair she had reasoned it was far too long for him to be a serving soldier and had thought it was just a line to try and impress her. She hadn't been in the mood to be impressed by anyone. Looking back on it she reasoned that he could just as easily have been a Hollywood film star and she wouldn't have been impressed. Then he'd started calling her Kate thanks to that jacket Kate had forgotten and left hanging on the back of Molly's chair. She simply hadn't cared enough to correct him. She knew she hadn't been totally honest in that respect or other matters thinking he would lose interest, go away and none of it would matter. But he hadn't.

Today as he'd stared at her in shocked recognition she couldn't help noticing that he was good looking although she suspected any attraction she'd held for him three months ago had probably been obliterated by the horror of her turning up at his place of work. Although, given his circumstances she couldn't see how he had dared to behave so brusquely with her in front of other people.

How she had ever been persuaded to take him back to her hotel room after listening to the crap he'd uttered she couldn't imagine apart from blaming her weakness on drink and unhappiness. Listening to him sleeping so soundly during that long night, his slumber fuelled by alcohol, she had wanted to get up and run away but they were in _her_ room and she had nowhere else to go. She'd been glad when he disappeared in the morning and brought the whole sorry episode to a close without any further conversation being necessary. Since then she managed to put that night to the back of her mind and tried to move on although the constant financial struggle thanks to Rick's abandonment made life difficult for her. This morning, whilst not relishing the prospect of a week-long course, she had at least been hoping to get away from everything for a few days but here was life 'smacking her around the chops' again as her Nan might say.

"You don't half make life difficult for yourself," she said aloud, her voice sounding small and pathetic to her own ears. She sighed, closed her eyes for a moment and told herself she had no choice. She was stuck here until Friday and she would just have to carry on as normally as she could. She wondered for a moment if Charles would tell anyone about them and prayed that he wouldn't. The last thing she wanted was to hear any gossip about her but then she reasoned in his circumstances surely it was the last thing he would do. She could probably rely on his silence.

Molly changed as quickly as she could and went downstairs and out into the paddock. The blue team was standing in a semi-circle around Charles and at their feet were some planks of wood of varying lengths. She approached the group from behind with only Charles able to see her. He looked up, caught her eye and to her relief said in a level tone,

"Good, we're all here. Let's get on with the Minefield Challenge."

He set about explaining that the task was to get all eight of them across from one side of an imaginary minefield to the other using only the stepping stones and planks provided. No one was allowed to touch the ground or they would fail the task. As she listened to Charles delivering the instructions she was surprised to hear a degree of humour in his voice. A few members of the team laughed and exchanged mock looks of concern as he succinctly explained the purpose of the task.

"Everyone understand?" He looked around them a final time and they nodded.

"Right, then all you need to do is choose a team leader. Each one of you will lead a team in a task this week."

Molly hung back waiting for the others to decide what to do.

"Bear in mind, "Charles called, "that you don't know what the other tasks are and some of you will be more suited to one task than another. If you think you'd like to lead this task then please volunteer."

There was still some hesitancy. Charles looked to the back of the group and seeing Molly there called, "What about you, Molly."

She was sure she had heard a particular inflection in his voice when he said her name.

"Think this is your bag?"

She shook her head just as Alex Handford, a branch manager in the finance division, raised his hand and agreed to take on the task.

Forty minutes later Molly was bored stiff and standing half-way across the 'minefield' area stranded on a plank and feeling an idiot.

"Time's up, blue team," Charles called checking his watch. He had been standing on the side lines watching proceedings and acting as an adjudicator. Molly was still standing on the plank and Charles called out, "Everyone, stay where you are." Before starting to explain the principles of the task and how they might have solved the problem. He moved a few planks to demonstrate and asked Molly to move along. As she walked past him her trainer caught the edge of the wood and she tripped, losing her balance and falling over towards him. He reached out to steady her but one of her feet had already slipped down onto the ground. He was still holding her arm and she couldn't help herself saying,

"Boom!"

He shook his head slightly and bit his lower lip. "It's a good job it's not the real thing or you'd have been red-misted just then."

She couldn't help the uttering the retort almost under her breath, "As if you'd care."

He let go of her arm and turning away from her said matter-of-factly and without a hint of sarcasm or any sentiment, "I'd never have forgiven myself."

She realised from the impassiveness of his remark that he was now trying to ignore the awkwardness of the situation. He wasn't going to play ball and respond to her quips. Whatever his initial reaction to her appearance had been it seemed as if he was trying to simply get on and do his job without further incident and she decided that it was an approach that would suit her just as well.

When Molly finally met up with Kate and Mike at dinner that evening they both said how much they were enjoying the course. Mike had put his hand up to lead the first task in his group and was very pleased that he had succeeded and been praised by Bing. Kate was still singing Ade's praises and pondering aloud about why she'd never considered the army for a career if it was full of such hot men who looked great in uniform.

"I expect they don't all look like Ade," Molly observed, "and have you forgotten, you'd have to wear that uniform too You said green's not your colour."

Kate appeared to think about this for a moment, before replying, "You might have a point there and I can't manage without getting my nails done." She gazed at her hands, "Look, I've broken one already."

Molly rolled her eyes, "I rest my case."

After dinner a Krypton Factor style puzzle challenge had been organised in the lounge. Ade was taking charge of this and Molly was relieved to see there was no sign of Charles. Feeling more relaxed, she began to enjoy working with the others and trying to solve a variety of puzzles, mental and memory challenges against the clock. The teams became competitive and there was plenty of friendly banter and rivalry. By the time Ade called an end to proceedings at nine thirty, Molly realised that she'd actually had a good time and had begun to see some of her colleagues in a new light.

With activities over for the day and at Kate's insistence they retreated to the bar. It had been a long day and Kate said she definitely needed a glass of something red. When they entered the bar, Molly caught sight of Bing and Charles sitting at a table in the corner of the room pouring over some paperwork. Charles looked up at the sound of the door opening and caught Molly's eye, holding her gaze for a few seconds before looking back down at the table.

"OMG," Kate exclaimed her eyes wide in astonishment. "Is that Charles?"

Molly realised that this was the first time Kate had seen him since arriving, having missed the course briefing at the start of the day.

"Yeah," Molly replied, taking care not to look in his direction.

"You lucky girl! Now I'm definitely torn between which group I'd rather be in."

Mike looked bemused, "Drinks, ladies?"

They gave him their orders and he moved to the bar. Kate was still gazing over in Charles direction enjoying the view when Molly noticed that he and Bing seemed to have concluded their discussion and were standing up and beginning to move in their direction. She sidled around behind Kate trying to avoid any need for conversation but Kate had already taken the opportunity on seeing both men approaching her to call out to Bing,

"I must say, Bing, I've really enjoyed today."

Bing smiled, "Glad to hear it. There's plenty more to do tomorrow, so don't drink too much."

Charles was standing just behind Bing disinclined to speak and conscious that Bing thought Kate Allen was the skeleton in his cupboard.

"Have you been working here long, Charles?" Kate said with a bright smile, inviting him into the conversation. Bing turned slightly towards Charles and Molly saw his eyes widen a fraction in mock alarm. She realised in that moment that Bing knew. Charles must have told him and she was mortified. The only saving grace was that Bing clearly didn't know that it was Molly and not her friend who was the cause of his amusement. She remembered Bing checking Kate out when they had arrived and it all made sense. He must have been curious about her and now every time she opened her mouth to say something mildly flirtatious Molly saw Bing forming the wrong impressions and felt herself cringing on her friend's behalf.

Charles had replied politely to Kate's question but looked as if he wanted to be somewhere else. Thankfully, Mike called over from the bar needing a decision from Kate on what she wanted to drink and she had to turn away from them. Charles made his excuses and promptly left whilst Bing, ever the sociable host, started to circulate amongst the delegates. Molly waited for Kate to return holding two glasses of wine.

"Oh, has Charles left? That's a pity," she purred taking a sip of her wine. "I wouldn't mind being stuck in a foxhole with him."

Turning back towards Mike Kate didn't hear Molly's response muttered under her breath, "A rat hole would be more appropriate!"


	4. Chapter 4

**_Thank you for reading and for all your lovely reviews. I'm glad you are enjoying the story and I'm sorry about the delay in updating but unfortunately I was waylaid by real life for a few days. Hopefully, the updates will follow a little more swiftly from here onwards. Thanks for your patience._**

**Chapter Four**

Charles looked out of the window into the quadrangle of what had once been the stable yard at Nant Glyn House, seeing the shiny wet flagstones, hearing water dripping from the eaves of the converted single storey buildings and realised it was not the best day for outdoor activities. He drank the mug of coffee his Nespresso machine had just brewed. Normally, he went across to the House and onto the terrace for some fresh air and a few minutes contemplation before the start of the day but this morning given the rain and squally wind he remained sitting where he was at the table in his apartment drinking his coffee and eating a bowl of coco pops.

The coco pops were a bad habit he didn't seem able to break. There had been a medic on his third tour of Afghanistan who swore by them and having once been tempted to try them he had developed a liking for them. Rebecca had hated it, telling him that eating sugary breakfast cereals was setting a bad example to Sam. She had complained to him more than once that she could hardly insist upon Sam eating a healthy bowl of organic porridge in the morning if his father ate rubbish like that. He understood her desire to keep Sam's diet healthy but sometimes he wished she would just cut the lad a little slack. At least Sam got to enjoy the bowls of coco pops he ate at his father's home on his weekend visits. It was his little treat and their secret.

Charles had received an email from Sam last night asking him what they would be doing at the weekend. He was seven years old now and keen on outdoor activities. Charles had begun to form an idea of asking Rebecca if Sam could come up to Nant Glyn House and stay with him for a week during the summer holidays. Sarah Crosby had said she'd be more than happy to keep an eye on Sam whilst Charles was working. He was about the same age as her son, Nat, and it would be good company for him. She'd even offered to put Charles and Sam up at the Lodge House for the week as they had a spare room and it would be more comfortable there for both father and son than camping out in Charles bachelor quarters in the stable yard. He made up his mind to broach the subject with Rebecca this weekend when he went down to Bath. He was sure Sam would enjoy himself but he didn't want to get his hopes up if Rebecca poured cold water over it for some as yet unexplained reason.

There was a howl of wind around the quadrangle and Charles gazed up at the sky. It wasn't a great day for raft building but the forecast had stated the weather would start to improve a bit by mid-morning. It might be better to stage one of the indoor team challenges that morning and leave the outdoor activities until the afternoon. As much as he didn't mind inclement weather or being a bit damp or uncomfortable, he was conscious that adverse conditions did tend to affect the enjoyment of fee paying clients and he had to be ever mindful of their comfort. He decided to stroll over to the house after breakfast and discuss the timetable with Bing.

X-X-X-X

As Molly emerged from the bathroom after her shower she saw Kate standing in front of the mirror applying her make up with the kind of precision and finesse that Molly could only dream about. Molly had already done hers in about two minutes flat; a quick slap of concealer and foundation, one layer of waterproof mascara on her eye lashes and just the hint of some colour on her cheeks. Kate, in contrast, was approaching the process as if it were a work of art. She finished applying mascara and seeing Molly's reflection in the mirror looked up at her and said,

"I wish I could get away with that fresh-faced youthful look. It takes a lot of work to make this face look acceptable."

Molly laughed, "What a load of bollocks. There's nothing wrong with your face."

Kate turned her head from left to right and craned her neck smoothing down some imaginary lines.

"I suppose it could be worse," she agreed, "but I'm not sure Phil takes much notice of me anymore and let's face it, he couldn't exactly compete with some of the eye candy on display here."

Molly thought of Kate's husband, a financial adviser in his mid-thirties. She had always considered him to be reasonably good-looking for a slightly older man and although he might not have the physique of someone who seriously worked out in the gym, he was still fairly slim and fit. Above all, he was dependable and reliable and she had no doubt from seeing him with Kate or from the number of times he called her each day when she was at work that he loved her.

"I mean," Kate continued, "look at Ade or Charles."

Molly recalled Kate talking to Bing and Charles in the bar last night and remembered how embarrassed she had felt for her friend being the unconscious subject of Bing's amusement.

"Yes, well, appearances aren't everything, are they?" Molly said.

Kate smiled, "Maybe not, but they certainly help, especially when you're my age."

She paused considering her words before saying in a quiet voice, "I wasn't talking about, you know who, 'Rick the Prick', just now."

"I know," Molly said, "neither was I."

When Molly and Kate came downstairs into the hall, Kate moved off to the left to go and hang up both hers and Molly's bath towels in the drying room. Molly, waiting to go into breakfast with Kate, wandered over to the noticeboard and saw a revised timetable for Tuesday pinned there. The raft building activity for the blue group had been put back until the afternoon with the other groups scheduled to do high and low ropes courses later in the day. Everyone would be undertaking indoor team challenges this morning.

"What's that?" Mike said, leaning in over Molly's shoulder for a better view. He read the paper and then remarked, "Lucky you. I'm looking forward to our turn at raft building. I always fancied joining the Navy when I was at school."

Molly raised her eyebrows, "Did you?" wondering what had happened to transform the idea of a naval career into a branch manager in the recruitment industry. "Well, you can swap with me if you like. I bloody hate water."

"That's a pity!" The well-educated voice that Molly immediately identified as belonging to Charles, spoke from behind her. She turned to see him standing nearby watching her.

"I was looking forward to seeing your maritime skills in action," he said, sounding to Molly's ears as if he thought it would be worthwhile for all the wrong reasons.

She couldn't help retorting, "Where'd you learn yours? In the marines?"

He raised his eyebrows and to her annoyance seemed amused as he nodded his head saying, "Touché!"

He turned away and disappeared in the direction of the office as Molly muttered, "I don't speak bleedin' French."

The indoor team challenges turned out to be enjoyable. The rain and wind battered the lounge windows but inside there was a degree of merriment at large, following on from the fun session held the previous evening. The groups were set a series of problem solving challenges against the clock and were pitched against each other. Once or twice Molly made suggestions which proved successful and was pleasantly surprised to hear Charles utter, "Well done," when the blue team managed to succeed thanks to her contribution. When they broke for lunch Molly felt reasonably happy with the way things had gone although the memory of what was scheduled for the afternoon session cast a small shadow over her satisfaction.

After lunch, as predicted, the weather had cleared. The rain had moved south and although there was still a stiff breeze, sunshine was trying to break through the cloud. Standing at the edge of the lake Molly surveyed the array of barrels, planks and ropes with trepidation and a sense of foreboding. She'd never liked water much, certainly not open water like this, being a non-swimmer. In contrast, everyone else seemed to be enjoying the prospect of a paddle across the lake and there was a lot of laughter and a few jokes flying around.

They had started in the meeting room with Charles outlining the purpose of the task. They had an hour to construct a raft from the materials provided and negotiate a course on the lake from a pebble beach a hundred yards to the left of the house, around a moored buoy and back to the wooden jetty near the front lawn. Peter Thornton, a young, over-eager manager from the East Grinstead branch and keen to make his mark and progress in the company, had readily volunteered to be leader for the task declaring amongst his credentials that he had been in the Sea Scouts as a boy growing up in Southampton.

The group was initially given twenty minutes to work on a design which had to meet with Charles' approval in respect of safety before they were told to proceed to the lake where they would construct and sail the course against the clock. Before they began the construction Charles looked around him,

"Any more questions?"

There were general shakes of the head before he said, "Right, just one thing remains."

He produced a small, blue drawstring bag. "It would be advisable for you to deposit any watches, jewellery or valuables in here to prevent them meeting a watery end."

He moved around the group collecting some watches and a couple of necklaces. Molly, standing at the end of the row, glanced down at her hands and noticed a couple of rings that she wore all the time. She pulled them off and as Charles drew level with her placed them in the upturned palm of her hand ready to tip them into the open bag. He looked down and paused for a second or two before reaching over and taking them from her hand one by one and placing them in the bag. As he turned away from her, pulling the bag tight shut, she saw him frown. He faced the rest of the group.

"Ok, blue team, the clock starts….now!"

They got to work laying the barrels and planks out on the grass as directed by Peter who had assumed the mantle of authority with apparent ease and was ordering them about in tones akin to a Rear Admiral addressing the assembled crew of an Aircraft Carrier. He instructed them to tie all manner of confusing knots that he assured them would keep the raft afloat no matter what happened and had taken the Kontiki across the Pacific. Molly, never one for handicrafts, in fact knitting was a skill entirely unknown in the Dawes household, attempted to follow his instructions but met with a few disappointed shakes of the head when her knots failed to pass Peter's inspection.

Once the raft had finally been assembled everyone donned helmets and buoyancy jackets and together they lifted up the raft and carried it to the water's edge before scrambling aboard and grabbing a paddle each. To Molly, who possessed no sea legs, it felt very unstable and as they paddled in an uncoordinated fashion out towards the moored buoy and with the wind in their faces, it seemed like a very difficult task. Progress was slow but they began to make headway with Peter calling out 'stroke' at regular intervals as if he was a cox in The Boat Race. It was beginning to get on Molly's nerves and she even heard the mild-mannered Alex Handford, perched in front of her, mutter, "Belt up, you prat!"

Eventually, they reached the buoy and manoeuvred their way around it. As they did so, Molly caught sight of Charles strolling around the edge of the lake heading towards the jetty and their finishing point still holding the stopwatch in his hand. Peter started up the cry of 'stroke' again and this time Alex called out, "For god's sake shut up, Pete."

The raft was half-way between the buoy and the jetty when a strong gust of wind caught it side-on and propelled them off course. The raft wobbled and Alex Handford, lurched backwards knocking Molly off balance. The barrel beneath her which had started to move more freely as the ropes loosened, in spite of Peter's claims, shifted to one side and she started to slip. She tried to grip with her knees but as Alex pulled himself upright again he caught her with his elbow and she fell into the water letting go of the paddle. The icy coldness of the water enveloped her and in the shock of hitting the water she struggled for a few seconds to catch her breath. The water was well beyond her depth but the buoyancy jacket held her upright. She kicked with her feet trying to move herself nearer to the raft and heard Melanie and a couple of the others calling out to say they'd get her out in half a minute.

"Just stay there," Peter Thornton called out to her.

"I aint bleedin' well going anywhere you numpty," she retorted in what would have been a terse voice if it hadn't come out as a whisper through gritted teeth.

The raft floated back towards her and hands reached out to haul Molly back on board. She clambered up feeling the water draining from her clothes. The wind was whipping across the lake again and in spite of it being June the dampness combined with the breeze froze her and her teeth began to chatter. The raft was only about twenty yards from the jetty now and they steered a course towards it. Molly could see Charles standing there waiting for them to return. As they reached the end of the jetty he leaned over to pull the raft alongside.

Molly clambered off the raft. The water dripped from her clothes forming pools around her feet as she pulled off her helmet and buoyancy jacket and padded towards the lawn. Charles looked briefly in her direction but said nothing and carried on securing the raft whilst the others climbed off. When everyone was back on dry land he turned to address them all,

"Not bad. You made it across in the time. More or less." He glanced at Molly and she thought he was trying to suppress a smile. "There's just one problem." He looked around them waiting for a response or suggestion but when none was forthcoming he said, "You're minus some equipment."

He pointed out to the lake where Molly's paddle could be seen floating about thirty yards from the shore. He turned his gaze upon her.

"Any chance of you popping back in to fetch it, seeing as you're already soaked and you were the one who dropped it."

For a moment Molly thought he was joking but as he stood there with his arms folded and no hint of a smile on his face she realised he was fully expecting her to comply with his suggestion. She was cold, shivering, her teeth were chattering and she already felt humiliated at being the only one to fall into the water. She returned his look and said in a uncompromising voice,

"I can't swim and if you think I'm going back for that you can go and take a run and jump yourself."

She turned and set off at a pace back towards the house feeling the soaked cotton material of her trousers rubbing like sandpaper against her thighs with each step that she took.

She heard the splash followed by the sound of a small cheer and turned around in time to see Charles' head breaking the surface of the lake. His boots lay on the jetty and he was striking out towards the abandoned paddle to retrieve it. For a few seconds she watched him in astonishment as his clean, fast strokes ate up the distance. She shook her head.

"Bloody pranet!"

Let him show off if he wanted. She was sure the others would appreciate his efforts but she didn't care. She turned her back and carried on towards the house.

She was uncomfortable, cold, clammy and shaking by the time she reached the main entrance to the house. The heated drying room was located in the basement and accessed by a door on the left of the entrance. Molly decided to head straight down there and deposit her wet shoes and jacket before going upstairs to change. After the chill outside, the heat from the warm pipes in the room was soothing. There were plenty of other garments hanging up in there from other activities and she had to move over to the far right hand corner to find a space to hang her clothes. As she did so she spotted the towel Kate had put in there for her that morning and grabbed it meaning to dry her hair. She took off her trainers, socks and jacket and hung them up. All her clothes were soaked and she held up the towel to inspect it; an extra-large bath sheet. She reasoned that the main stairs were only a few feet from the basement door and everyone else was out in the woods doing ropes courses. She undid her trousers and slipped them off quickly followed by her tee shirt before looking around for a space to hang them up.

X-X-X-X

Charles threw the paddle onto the jetty and emerged from the lake. Water streamed from his clothes and his red tee shirt moulded to the muscles of his chest and abdomen. He shook the water from his hair and as he clambered up onto the jetty he received a small round of applause from the rest of the blue team who had stayed to watch. He raised a hand in mock salute and smiled.

"Thank you. If you all want to make your way round to the meeting room we'll do an analysis of the activity in a few minutes. I just need a quick change."

He strode up to the house carrying his boots and belongings. He kept a spare change of clothes in the office as it was closer than returning to his accommodation in the stable yard. He collected the bag and made his way towards the drying room. He padded down the stairs in his bare feet and the heavy door, on a slow return hinge, made only the slightest of clicks as it shut. He put down his bag and had already stripped off his tee shirt when he became aware of a movement in the far corner. He peered through the garments hanging on lines strung across the room and caught sight of Molly dressed only in skimpy black pants and a bra, fiddling about hanging up her wet clothes. He couldn't help noticing her firm, shapely body as she stretched up on her tiptoes to reach the top line. Her long dark hair had been towelled dry and was hanging loose in tousled strands around her shoulders.

Charles was captivated by the sight of her and frozen to the spot but conscious of a feeling of voyeurism. He realised he would be unable to extricate himself from the room without drawing attention to his presence and taking a breath cleared his throat.

Molly jumped and instantly turned away searching for the towel and, locating it, bent to pick it up from the floor. Trying to maintain her dignity she wrapped the towel around her like a sarong tucking the end into her cleavage to hold it in place. She stared across the room taking in the sight of his bare chest, the clearly defined six-pack usually hidden beneath shirt, the breadth of his shoulders and the muscular contours of his upper arms. They locked eyes. Neither spoke and Charles felt embarrassed. He knew he should say something but could only manage a feeble,

"I just came down here to change out of my wet clothes."

She seemed to be weighing this up before replying, "Ditto."

Molly moved across the room towards him and in the direction of the door.

"How long were you standing there?"

Charles thought from the tone of her voice that she sounded suspicious.

"I only just came in,"he offered which wasn't strictly true but he didn't want to admit that he'd been watching her.

She had drawn level with him now and was standing only a foot away. She looked up at him and he was struck by the intensity of expression in her green eyes when she said,

"Really?"

She made as if to brush past him and leave but he reached out and grasped her upper arm pulling her back in towards him. She could feel his fingers pressing into her flesh. She looked down at his hand holding onto her and then back at him. He was staring intently, a frown creasing his brow as if confused or undecided. She could hear the thud of her own heartbeat echoing in her ears and then unable to bear the silence said in a tense voice,

"Are you sure you weren't checking out the tattoo on my arse? I don't suppose you can remember it."

He released her arm at once his expression changing to one of surprise. He shook his head in a gesture of disbelief before bending down to pick up the small drawstring bag into which the blue team had placed their valuables. He stood up again and said,

"Perhaps the memory of your tattoo is hazy but I do remember something."

He reached into the bag, drew out an item and held it out to her.

"Your engagement ring."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Molly rubbed her eyes and blinked trying to focus and get her bearings. The room was unfamiliar, the bed uncomfortable and she was aware of the sound of someone close to her gently snoring. She turned her head to see Kate curled up in a ball in the bed to her left. She glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It was light outside, but it was still early and the alarm wouldn't go off for another forty-five minutes. She tried to close her eyes and go back to sleep but it was no good, the events of yesterday had started to turn over in her mind and she experienced a conflict of emotions. She had been infuriated by Charles waving that ring in front of her, acting like he was Sherlock bloody Holmes. She knew she could have told him the truth there and then but she simply wouldn't give him the satisfaction. She just couldn't understand how he could maintain such a pious attitude. She'd taken the ring from him and left the room without another word or a backward glance. She hadn't returned for the analysis session afterwards for which she was scolded by Peter Thornton but she frankly couldn't care as most of her group were moaning about him being a scheming ladder-climber behind his back anyway. Thankfully, Molly had only seen Charles in the distance disappearing out of the main entrance of the house later in the evening and he hadn't returned.

The conflict of her emotions and the reason that she hadn't been able to say anything to him at that moment was because she knew that just before he had produced the ring, when his fingers had been wrapped around the soft flesh of her upper arm and he had been looking at her in silence, she had felt something. There had been a flicker of recognition in her mind, a remembrance of a previous emotional response to him and it had disturbed her. Her nerves had caused her to make that quip about the tattoo to break whatever spell he had just woven around her and then he'd produced his trump card; the ring.

It had been another stupid ploy that night in the hotel. He had been sitting there talking for about fifteen minutes and caught up in her own misery she'd just wanted him to go away. She knew she should have told him straight out to just 'piss off' but something had stopped her. She had waited until he had gone to the bar and slipped that ring onto the third finger of her left hand. When he'd noticed it and the conversation had turned in that direction she'd allowed him to believe it was an engagement ring. It was just a dress ring but a very unusual design and it was no wonder that Charles had eventually remembered seeing it before. It had been one of Rick's sudden, generous presents, the type of gesture that convinced someone who had always undervalued themself, someone like her, to believe she was important in his life and yet to him it was just an impulse buy with no sentiment attached. Most of the things he had said and done during their relationship were on impulse but she hadn't understood that until it was too late. She looked at the ring lying on the bedside table and wondered for a moment if she was really continuing to wear it just because she liked the design or because in spite of Rick's shallowness it still held sentimental value for her being a reminder of a time when she had believed herself special.

Molly crept to the bathroom, showered and dressed. When she emerged, Kate, still drowsy, mumbled,

"What time is it?"

"Still early, you can lie in a bit longer."

"Thank god!" Kate buried her head under her pillow. "Everything hurts after that ropes course. I'm going to need a full body massage after this."

Molly smiled and bending over her whispered, "No guesses who you'd pick for the job."

Kate sighed aloud, "Just imagine, Ade or Charles standing there with a bottle of warm, scented massage oil."

Molly rolled her eyes and said "I'm going out for some fresh air before breakfast. See you later."

She wandered downstairs. It was quiet in the house apart from staff going in and out of the Dining Room setting up for breakfast. Molly went through to the deserted lounge and opened one of the French doors onto the terrace. As she stepped outside she caught sight of Charles standing there, a coffee mug in his hand.

He had been having his customary mug of Rosabaya whilst taking in the scene. It was a fine day and he assessed the cloud base to be above three thousand feet as only the tallest peaks in the region were still obscured and cracks in the cloud were beginning to appear revealing patches of blue sky and allowing shafts of sunlight to filter through and move across the lake towards the house. He'd been thinking about yesterday. In fact he'd spent far too long last night thinking about yesterday, particularly that moment in the drying room. He didn't know what had possessed him when he had grasped Molly's arm apart from feeling drawn to her the same way that he had been drawn to her back in that hotel bar, in spite of his inebriated state. She provoked him to overreact just as it seemed he provoked her to display animosity towards him. He wished they could just start again. Go back to that first meeting and replay the whole scene without its sordid conclusion but the memory of the engagement ring had made everything complicated. At this moment, he reasoned that he would settle for straightforward civility.

He heard the door onto the terrace opening and when he turned his head had expected to see Bing. He was shocked to see Molly stepping out before she caught sight of him and appeared to be about to retreat into the lounge.

"Molly!" Her name had left his lips before he had time to think about it. He saw her start in surprise and stop. He took a couple of steps towards her.

"Please, don't leave on my account."

She could hear there was no irony or sarcasm in his voice. He genuinely seemed to mean what he was saying.

"I was just having a coffee." He raised the mug in a needless gesture of explanation, "and a minute to myself."

To her surprise he smiled at her. She didn't want to turn away and seem rude just for the sake of it. There seemed no point when he was doing nothing to provoke her. She ventured forward a few steps before saying,

"It's very quiet here."

"Yes," he agreed. "It must seem like that after London."

She was encouraged by his reasonable reply. "It's prettier than London, though and I didn't think I'd say that."

He looked at her and raised his eyebrows. "So the charms of the countryside _are_ beginning to work their magic."

Molly couldn't help it. She smiled, "Now don't go too far!"

They fell into silence standing near each other, both looking at the magnificent view and feeling unsure how to carry on the conversation before Molly asked with a degree of hesitation, "Have you climbed all these mountains round here, then?"

Charles shook his head. "Some of them before my injury." He looked down at his leg, "But not many since then. I only occasionally go out on the hills now."

"Hills!" Molly exclaimed, "I'd bleedin' well hate to see your idea of a mountain."

He glanced down at her. She was gazing up at him, her green eyes wide in mock horror and the hint of a smirk on her face.

"OK, they're pretty big hills, I'll give you that!" He smiled to himself but she noticed.

Charles couldn't help thinking it was the first time since she'd arrived here on Monday that they'd managed to exchange anything resembling a friendly conversation. When he'd seen her step out onto the terrace just now he'd been worried she would find an excuse to tear him off a strip about something and had been ready to retreat rather than face another verbal onslaught. He wondered if now was the moment to build a small bridge between them even if it was only for the sake of making life more comfortable for a few days. He took a deep breath,

"Look, Molly, whatever happened in the past, can we agree to draw a line underneath it and just move on from here?"

He looked at her. She seemed to be weighing something up. She opened her mouth, hesitated for a moment again and then said,

"The ring yesterday, I should have explained..."

He cut her off, "There's nothing you need to say. It's your business. Let's just forget about any of that. You've got three more days here and I think you could get a lot out of this." He held out his hand to her, "Truce?"

He was right. She was tired of being annoyed with him and there was no point in making the next few days more difficult for each other. They might as well put everything aside and she would try to enjoy what was left of the course. She reached out and grasped his hand, nodding at him in agreement, "Truce."

He held her hand in his, small, warm and compliant and a memory of holding her hand that night returned to him. They had been sitting on the bed in her room and he remembered seeing unhappiness in her face. Had he been trying to say something comforting? He shook his head slightly, bloody drink. He'd kept away from it since then. He felt her try to pull her hand away and realised he had been holding it too long. As she moved away, his fingers trailed along her palm, his thumb caressing the back of her hand and he saw her watching him. He took his hand away, cleared his throat and said,

"Well, I'd better go along and check the ropes course. I'll see you at nine o'clock."

She nodded, "Yeah."

He turned and crossing the terrace swiftly disappeared from view around the side of the house. She watched him leave, closed her eyes and sighed.

"Take care, Molly Dawes!"

X-X-X-X

Molly hung tightly to the rope swinging between the platforms. There were seven people already standing on the platform she was trying to reach, clinging tightly onto each other whilst hands reached out to grab her and pull her alongside them to a space that was just big enough to accommodate them all. She slipped from their grasp to a collective groan and swung out again like a pendulum in the opposite direction.

"Get ready to catch her this time. The clock's ticking!" Charles called out.

Molly caught sight of him nearby, smiling and enjoying watching the activity. It was the last stage of the challenge on the low ropes course. All they needed to do was to get every member of the team onto each progressively smaller platform, one at a time with only a rope swing between them.

As Molly swung back towards the crowded platform and reached the highest point, Dave Cairns caught her by her arm and pulled her back into the small area available. Everyone hugged in closer and there was a moment of precarious wobbling accompanied by some nervous laughter before they eventually steadied themselves and gave a group cheer.

"Well done, blue team. Good work," Charles called out. "Successfully completed."

One by one they released their grip and tumbled down the three feet or so from the platform to the ground.

"OK, we'll break for lunch and then meet back here at two o'clock for the high ropes."

The group started to make their way back up through the woods towards the house. Molly went to retrieve her sweatshirt and when she had located it and turned to go she found Charles about to head back in the same direction. He fell in alongside her.

"That was a good session, "he observed. "Did you enjoy the course?"

Molly had surprised herself by discovering she was nimble and had good balance and coordination. Today the group had been well managed. Thankfully, Peter Thornton had calmed down after yesterday's raft escapade and Melanie Turnbull, an experienced manager in her early forties who had volunteered to be leader for the task, was adept at managing personalities. She had organised and instructed calmly, there had been good team camaraderie and Molly had found it enjoyable. She had also been more relaxed this morning. The conversation with Charles before breakfast had helped to clear the air and consequently he had also seemed more relaxed. Molly felt she had seen a friendlier more open side to him today with less correctness of manner on show and more genuine interest displayed in all of them. For the first time she started to feel that she could be herself and everything had been a much better experience.

"It was good, "Molly told Charles. "I didn't think it would be that much fun, if I'm honest."

Charles nodded, "People often surprise themselves with what they can achieve when they're challenged."

They walked a few yards further.

"Perhaps you should consider leading the next task as you got on so well with the low ropes."

Molly shrugged. "I dunno."

Charles stopped and faced her. "You're agile and it'll need someone to lead by example." He paused, a smile hovering on his lips, "And I bet you could offer a few choice words of motivation if necessary."

They made eye contact for a few seconds and Molly felt herself begin to smile. He clearly knew her quite well by now and had made a fair judgment

"I'll think about it," she replied

They turned back towards the house and Charles asked her about her job, how she liked it and why she had chosen it for a career.

"It was Kevin really, he's the Managing Director. He had faith in me, I suppose, and gave me a chance. He's the first person who's ever done that."

Charles was touched. He'd had no idea all those months ago that there was such an intriguing person behind the mouthy façade that had been on display once or twice in the last couple of days.

"He's taken an interest in me ever since. Like me coming on this course. Kate reckons I might be promoted."

"That's good," Charles said, "Do you feel ready for it?"

"Well, ready or not," Molly sighed, "I could do with the money. But that's an entirely different story." It was an honest answer from someone who was financially stretched to the limit and often struggling to feed herself at the end of the month.

She looked up at Charles, "Anyway, how did you end up here?" She realised at once how stupid that sounded and looking apologetic said, "I forgot, sorry, you were injured."

Charles nodded, "Yes, that's pretty much why I left the army and ended up here." He didn't really want to dwell on that episode in his life or any other reasons for taking this job.

They had reached the house and were standing outside the main entrance.

"You'd better go in for lunch. " Charles nodded his head in the direction of the door, "I expect they've started."

He turned to wander off towards the stable yard but called over his shoulder, "Think about volunteering. You'll surprise yourself."

X-X-X-X

Standing at the base of the twelve metre high pole that she needed to climb to reach the high platform from where she and four of her colleagues would make a leap of faith, Molly wondered if she had allowed a little bit of encouragement from Charles to override her good sense. It was a long way up although she reasoned that she'd been taking in the view from the balcony of the Dawes family maisonette in East Ham all her life and it couldn't be much further down.

She had volunteered to lead the high ropes course and so far it hadn't gone too badly. They had managed the crate challenge by building a progressively higher tower of crates onto which they all had to clamber whilst roped up for safety and had managed to get as high as the other group who had attempted it. They had also climbed the wobbly Jacobs ladder with a lot of team cooperation but now she had been tasked with choosing four team members to climb the pole and make the leap of faith across to the trapeze.

Alex and Melanie had already declared that they didn't want to do it and Charles had agreed that no team member was compelled to try any challenge as no one should be pushed beyond their capabilities. Molly had declared that she would do the challenge and Peter Thornton said he fancied a try as did Dave Cairns. This left only Sue Miles, Amber Watson or Maurice Charlton. Maurice, a quiet assistant branch manager in his early fifties and the oldest employee on the course this week, said an old football injury to his right knee was playing up and he didn't think he could manage the climb. It was therefore a toss-up between Amber, a temporaries controller in the sales division and Sue, a construction division branch manager. It was clear to all of them from Sue's expression that she didn't relish the prospect. In the end Amber shrugged and declared herself willing and so the choice was made.

Fully harnessed and roped up, Molly, taking the leader's role, climbed first. She found the easiest path for her and reasoned that if she, as the shortest member of the team, could make it the others would manage better than her. She was puffing a bit by the time she hauled herself onto the platform but gave a thumbs up and Dave Cairns followed finding his way up in a short time. Amber followed him and finally Peter. His progress was a little shaky and once or twice he stopped and called out, "Just taking a breather." Molly watched him with concern, wondering if he was going to make it. It was obvious to her that he wasn't coping as well with the height as he had expected. She called out words of encouragement to him and he eventually made it to the platform. He looked pale; his hands were trembling a little and there were beads of perspiration dripping from below his helmet. Molly leaned towards him and whispered,

"You don't have to do this, Peter. No one has to do this if they don't want to."

He looked miserable but said through gritted teeth, "Don't worry I'll do it."

Charles called out instructions. Each of the four of them needed to jump from the platform to grasp the trapeze before he would control their descent to the ground. As leader Molly felt she should have made the first attempt but she was concerned about Peter and said she would wait until last. Dave Cairns made a quiet confession that he had done this once before and was happy to go first. He took a deep breath and launched himself with precision to grasp the trapeze accompanied by cheers from the rest of the team. Amber went next. She was nervous but determined and launched herself with a scream to catch the trapeze and could be heard laughing her head off in a release of nervous energy as she descended to the ground.

Molly turned to Peter. He was crouched down and holding on tightly his face grim and set, still sweating and looking as though the last thing he wanted to do was move.

"Peter, it's your turn."

He didn't appear to have registered what she was saying and she realised she was going to have a problem. She glanced down at Charles who was watching from the ground. He saw the concern in her face.

"Anything wrong?" he called.

"We just need a minute," Molly shouted down.

She knelt down next to Peter and looked him in the eye.

"D'you know what. Yesterday when we did that raft thing I was really scared. I hate water, 'cos I never learned to swim. That's why I was so angry." It wasn't strictly true, but she thought it would be a passable excuse. "Anyway, I trusted you because of all your experience and because you were really confident about it and kept encouraging us all and I made it and nothing bad happened, apart from getting bleedin' wet and cold." Peter was looking at her now, taking in her words. "Well, I didn't think I could do it, but I did. Just like, you can do this. I know you can. We can do the jump together. What d'you say? Why don't we scream our heads off together and make them all laugh?"

On the ground, Charles could hear snatches of Molly's conversation. He realised there was a problem and that Molly was trying to talk Peter round. He was concerned and preparing to abandon the task and rope up to climb to the platform and retrieve the situation when he saw Molly's face appear over the edge of the platform and her hand give a thumbs up signal.

"We're going to jump together," she called.

Charles nodded. "OK, stand up and jump on my count of three."

Peter and Molly stood, took a few deep breaths and Charles shouted, "One, two, three."

Nothing happened. Peter froze to the spot. Molly had sensed his lack of movement and stayed next to him. Charles kept quiet but everyone saw Molly turn to Peter and heard her say with real determination.

"Listen, Peter. I'm going to count to three and you and me _are_ going to jump and we're going to make it."

He nodded. She looked down at Charles.

"On my count, OK?"

"Over to you." Charles called up liking the sound of command in her voice and hoping it was going to work.

"Take a deep breath, Peter," she shouted. The tone and volume of her voice rose as she called, "OK, one, two, three…"

Together, they leapt out towards the trapeze, hands stretched in front of them and in half a second they had grasped it and were swinging there secure and both laughing from the adrenalin rush. They returned to the ground to cheers and claps on the back from the other members of the group. Charles stood back a little way, smiling and pleased with the outcome.

"That was good work and a nice team effort there. Well done to you, Molly, on leading the group."

She turned and caught his eye. It was his words this morning that had persuaded her to volunteer and she felt a tremendous sense of achievement. She hadn't known that she could lead others in that way and she certainly didn't realise that she'd be able to persuade someone like Peter Thornton to jump off that platform. It had been a revelation and Charles had been right she had surprised herself.

X-X-X-X

Ade had suggested the Karaoke in the bar that evening and was acting as compere, completely at home in front of an audience, regaling them with jokes and comments uttered in what Kate called his 'lovely posh boy' voice. The singing had been in full swing for about forty-five minutes when Kate and Mike decided to attempt a very poor rendition of 'Don't go breaking my heart'. In truth, Molly knew it was really Kate who fancied herself as something of a singer and who no doubt wanted to impress Ade. Ade appeared to be the life and soul of the party, gamely filling in whenever there was a lull in volunteers and to be fair to him he had a tuneful, tenor voice that was not unpleasant.

Kate and Mike finished singing to applause from their colleagues and returned to Molly.

"Why don't you have go, Molly?" Kate said looking over at Mike, "You'll duet with her you won't you, Mike?"

"Is that a request or a demand?" Mike said raising his eyes.

Molly raised her hands, "No thanks, anyway, I'm going up to bed I think. Don't drink too much, you two." She pulled a face at them.

Molly left the bar and made her way along the corridor hearing Ade start up what promised to be an epic rendition of 'Total eclipse of the heart' complete with a gravelly imitation of Bonnie Tyler. As she turned the corner into the hall she ran slap-bang into Charles. He stepped back in a hurry,

"Sorry!"

"No it was my fault, not looking where I'm going," Molly replied.

"You're not singing then?" Charles enquired.

Molly laughed, "I'd clear the bar if I opened my mouth. What about you? Are you heading that way to perform a quick number?"

Charles pulled a face, "Not really my bag, unlike Ade. Apparently, he's always been a terror for a microphone, especially on tour. Used to drive his guys mad singing all the time."

"Well, he's found a new audience in there," Molly observed just as Ade hit the heights of the chorus and they both winced slightly and laughed sharing their amusement.

Charles looked at her smiling up at him. It felt good to be having a normal, friendly conversation and there was something he wanted to say to her that he hadn't been able to express that afternoon. He'd watched her leading the high ropes task and he'd been impressed by the way she handled herself and had taken the other's strengths and weaknesses into account with a degree of sensitivity as well as motivating them when necessary.

"You did really well, today, Molly. In fact, I think you were brilliant, especially with Peter. That was a tricky situation and you managed him perfectly."

He saw the surprised look on her face and the hint of a blush on her cheeks. He meant what he said. She had risen to the challenge and he always gave credit where it was due. She deserved his praise.

"You know, Kevin Jones isn't the only one who has faith in you."

The hall was empty. Ade was singing the last strains of the song. Not for the first time today, Charles wished that things were different. He couldn't change what had gone before but he was determined to show her once and for all that everything was in the past now and they could be friends. He leaned towards her and gently kissed her on the cheek.

"Goodnight, Molly."

He turned from her and walked out of the house, heading back to his quarters. Molly watched him go with a mix of emotions. She felt a flutter of excitement but there was also regret; for what might have been if circumstances had been different and for what had happened. She shook her head. How much she wished now that she had never set foot in that hotel bar three months ago.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

**"**Oh bollocks!"

Bing replaced the receiver, leaned back in his chair, stretched his hands behind his head and exhaled.

"Sorry guys, "he turned to Charles and Ade sitting opposite him in the office waiting for the usual eight thirty briefing to start, "that was Marchmain Holdings cancelling the three day course next week. Looks like you'll be getting a longer than expected weekend."

Ade looked relatively pleased with this prospect realising he could have an extended stay with Giselle and catch up with some friends and made a mental note to contact a few chaps he knew as soon as the meeting was over.

For Charles, the news made little difference to his plans. He had arranged to collect Sam from Rebecca on Saturday morning and return him on Sunday afternoon in time for tea. He hadn't made any particular plans for the weekend as his mother was keen to spend some time with her grandson so he had been intending to ask Sam what he'd like to do when they met and just go with the flow. Once or twice during the season, when home matches coincided with their weekends together, he'd taken Sam to see Bath play but he hadn't seemed very interested in rugby. Rebecca's partner, Rob, was a football man who took Sam to Ashton Gate to see Bristol City matches. It jarred with him to hear phrases like 'always believe' creeping into his son's vocabulary. He didn't begrudge Rebecca her happiness but the way in which Rob's views, his likes, dislikes and habits were inevitably creeping into his son's view of the world irked him, even something as small as which football team he supported.

At seven years of age Sam was impressed by grand gestures and the expensive, treat-filled days out that someone like Rob could provide. Charles was sure that Rob must have worked hard for his success and he knew full well from his experiences in places like Afghanistan that materialistic possessions mattered little in the big scheme of life but nevertheless the contrast in the lives they were living at the moment bothered him sometimes. If he was honest he envied Bing. Bing was running a successful business doing something he loved in a beautiful location with the support of a wife and family close at hand. In his eyes life couldn't get much better than that.

"What're you up to this weekend, Charles? You know Sarah keeps badgering me to get you round for Sunday lunch." Bing's question interrupted Charles' thoughts. Bing didn't add that Sarah had an ulterior motive for wanting to invite Charles. She had made a good friend, the mother of one of Nat's school friends, a divorced, single mother of thirty called Cerys and it had struck her that she and Charles were well-matched in terms of age and situation. She was keen to provide an opportunity to get them together. Bing had warned her off matchmaking but she had dismissed his concerns and told him men simply had no idea about some things.

Charles sighed.

"I'm heading down to Bath tomorrow night to spend a bit of quality time with Sam. But if we're free until Thursday I might well stay on. Strangely, my mother doesn't mind me around the house. In fact, she seems to welcome it because she's always got a list of jobs for me to do. She's been hinting about an overgrown patch of brambles at the end of the garden she wants clearing. She fancies a summerhouse, apparently." He raised his eyebrows. "Perhaps I should be hoping for rain at the weekend."

Ade laughed, "Oh God, my mother usually says something like 'Are you here again?' or 'when are you going to get your own place so I can visit you?' Perhaps packing me off to school at eleven was supposed to be a hint. You, know, don't darken my door again until you're married and sprogged up." He glanced at Bing and Charles and added with an apologetic smile, "No offence, guys."

Bing shook his head, "None taken. Anyway, back to the business in hand, gentlemen. Navigation and orienteering today and, of course, the surprise night expedition. At what time shall we spring this upon the poor unsuspecting devils?"

They agreed upon nine o'clock that evening which would allow for equipment to be gathered together, instructions to be given in the form of a briefing before each group would be bussed to the start point. From there they would begin the five mile, navigation exercise requiring them to find a route across simple tracks and footpaths on lowland terrain and taking in three designated checkpoints before finishing back at Nant Glyn House. By the time the groups were ready to start the exercise at ten o'clock darkness would have fallen.

X-X-X-X

Molly appeared from the woods moving at a trot accompanied by Dave Cairns, with a map case slung over her shoulder; both of them were laughing and panting as they raced towards the finish line where Charles was standing with a stopwatch. As they crossed the line he called out,

"Not bad, forty minutes and fifteen seconds, that puts you second on the leader board at the moment."

"Only second?" Molly cried gasping for breath, her face flushed, eyes bright from the exercise and the unexpected fun that the orienteering course had been.

"I'm afraid so. Still a very good effort, though." He winked at her, appreciating the obvious enjoyment she had derived from the activity and smiled. "Leave your sheet here, go and get yourselves a drink over there and cool down."

Molly and Dave strolled over to join their colleagues who had already completed the course. Kate was there, looking sweaty and exhausted but Mike was still somewhere out in the woods.

When Molly had inspected the course itinerary for today she hadn't been very inspired by its contents. Navigation and the country code sounded like something the scouts did and never having belonged to any young person's organisation she assumed it would be a very dry and boring subject. Maps beyond the London Underground had always been a mystery. Even in Geography lessons at school she had seldom paid attention. However, Charles had explained the basics and they had studied the ordnance survey map for the area around Nant Glyn House. Standing outside orientating the map to the land she began to see how the colours, symbols and contour lines provided a visual interpretation of the landscape on paper. She could see how the contour lines displayed the undulations of the hills, the steepness of some of the gradients or the more gradual rises. The well-worn footpath that led from the lake up and over the hills to the left was marked on the map and she could trace its course both on paper and with the naked eye. The use of the compass had been another fear overcome. She had regarded compasses as something large and cumbersome, mainly used on ships with slide rules and complicated calculations. Finding that it was possible to determine your location and the direction in which to walk with just a few simple actions was yet another revelation. After running through the rules of the country code and a safety briefing, they broke for lunch with the promise of trying out a competitive orienteering course that afternoon.

At lunch Molly and Mike had been enthusiastic about the morning's activities only Kate had seemed concerned, particularly about what the orienteering would involve as in her mind Ade had made it sound a bit like a route march between checkpoints.

"I'm not really cut out for yomping," she had moaned.

"Oh I dunno," Molly interjected, "you can shop all day in heels, calling in at every designer shop on the high street. It can't be any worse than that."

Kate sighed, "Well, that, believe it or not, is a pleasure and I can fortify myself with the odd latte en route. I can't see Costa having a branch up there anywhere." She waved her hand vaguely in the direction of the mountains.

Looking at her flushed, sweaty face now, Molly wondered if Kate's opinion about orienteering would have changed.

"How did it go?" she asked.

Kate waved her hand indicating it was so-so.

"I'm just looking forward to a nice hot shower and a bit of relaxation this evening, to be honest," she replied, "In fact, I wouldn't say no to an early night with a good book." She lay back on the grass and shut her eyes.

Molly turned to watch Charles he was standing by the finish line shouting encouragement to Peter and Melanie who were just approaching the finish line. As they crossed he clapped them both on the back and turning caught sight of Molly gazing in his direction. He smiled at her. It was an open smile, warm and friendly and she could see in that moment that he was in his element here, doing this job in these surroundings. He was lucky to have found something like this after leaving the army and she was glad for him. She returned the smile before rolling onto her back in a mock gesture of exhaustion and didn't see him laughing before he turned back to Peter and Melanie to give them their time.

X-X-X-X

"OK, blue team. Good luck. Stay focused. Stay alert."

Charles could have added 'stay alive', as he had always instructed Two Section in Afghanistan, but he realised that it might be a tad overdramatic on the lowlands of North Wales and fill some of the more nervous members of the team with undue trepidation about what the night navigation exercise entailed.

As he watched them trudge up the lane from the start point of the five mile route along lanes, tracks and footpaths back to Nant Glyn House, he smiled at the memory of the usual mixture of reactions to the surprise news at nine o'clock that evening that they were all to prepare to go on a night exercise. Some of the course delegates had been delighted, relishing the unexpected challenge. Others had looked horrified and less than enthusiastic. Molly's friend Kate had fallen into the latter group, having half-heartedly asked if she could get her mother to send a sick note excusing her.

Everyone had been given forty minutes to gather together the equipment they needed to carry and to dress before being taken by minibus up to start point where they left at twenty minute intervals. Blue team were the last to leave. En route they had to call at three manned checkpoints to obtain a signature from each of the leaders to ensure there was no cheating and corner cutting. Seeing his group disappear from view, Charles hurried back to the minibus and set off to drive to the third checkpoint.

Molly's group were in relatively good spirits although a couple admitted they were a bit tired after a late night on Wednesday evening enjoying Karaoke and one too many in the bar and an afternoon running about outside on the orienteering course. However, the route they had been given was over relatively flat ground and they reasoned they should be able to make it back to Nant Glyn House by the early hours.

They took turns at navigating and within forty five minutes had reached the first checkpoint, spotting Bing sitting atop a stile with a broad grin on his face. He signed their paper, told them they were catching up with the yellow group who had taken a while to reach this point and should wait ten minutes before continuing. He bid them goodnight, declaring he was off back to Nant Glyn House and would be waiting there at the finish.

Molly took a turn at navigating the next part of the route and managed to negotiate her way safely to the next checkpoint at the edge of a wood where Ade had made himself very much at home, sitting on a folding stool and having brewed up on a small camp stove.

"Sorry guys," he drawled sounding anything but and tipping the mug over to reveal it was empty, "Just finished the last of the tea."

"Your platoon or whatever, must have loved you to bits," Molly observed, the sarcasm in her voice obvious to everyone.

"Oh, absolutely adored me," Ade told her with a cheeky grin and just for a moment she could see why Kate was so charmed by the man. He oozed self-confidence and there was something attractive about that degree of assurance.

"Well, make sure you put the kettle on for when we get back, then." Molly called out as they carried on their way.

"Righto! Tea and biscuits, the whole works, scouts honour." He called after them, laughing.

Maurice took charge of the next part of the navigation, handing over to Sue after thirty minutes. It was at this point that a few disagreements began to creep in to the group. The route they needed to follow took them across a field to join a lane on the other side of a stile. The field was large and the other side not visible. Sue was preparing to take a compass bearing when Peter began to insist that they should walk around the edge of field. In the end Sue allowed herself to be persuaded by Peter and they began to take the longer route around the edge. As they reached the bottom of the field they heard the sound of running water, possibly a small stream and it was at that moment that Sue cried out and tumbled to the side falling down a small bank accompanied by a gentle splash. Torches were shone towards the sound and revealed Sue, five or six feet below them holding onto a tree root and ankle deep in water. Dave and Alex edged their way down to her and taking an arm each hauled her back up to the top of the bank but it was obvious she was in pain.

"It's my ankle; I think I've twisted it." She was speaking through gritted teeth and in the torchlight she looked pale and her teeth were chattering.

Molly spoke up. "I'm the first aider at work and I've got some stuff in my rucksack, let me have a look." She knew that four day course with the Red Cross would be useful one day but hadn't expected it to be in the middle of a field in North Wales at the dead of night. She took off Sue's boot and sock. Her ankle was already swelling. She wasn't going to be able to carry on.

"Anyone got a mobile that works up here?" Molly asked knowing the answer would probably be a negative. Only Maurice had a patchy signal that broke up when he tried to make a call. In the end it was agreed that four of the group would carry on to the next checkpoint and alert Charles whilst Molly and Alex stayed with Sue.

Molly kept Sue warm and put a support bandage on her ankle but there wasn't much more she could do until help and transport arrived. They had been sitting there for ten minutes or so trying to keep Sue's spirits up as she seemed a little panicky after her fall when she started to cough a little. After a couple more minutes the cough developed into a wheeze and Alex, whose son had asthma, recognised the start of an asthma attack. He rifled through Sue's backpack looking for her inhaler but he couldn't find it. In the rush of going out she must have forgotten to pack it. The wheezing was getting worse and Molly felt quite anxious. Alex took over and started to use techniques he had learned to try to keep her calm.

"Breathe with me, Sue." He tried to get her to concentrate on slowing and relaxing her breathing but it was only having a little effect. Molly became anxious. She leaned in towards Alex and whispered.

"I'm going to walk back to that cottage we passed and see if they've got a landline and I'll call Nant Glyn House, OK?"

Alex didn't speak but nodded and carried on concentrating on Sue.

It only took Molly about fifteen minutes to find her way back to the cottage she had seen earlier on the route. She had apologised profusely to the owners, Mr and Mrs Powell, who from the fact they were in nightwear and dressing gowns had evidently been in bed. However, when she explained why she was there they were very helpful and kind, even offering to make her a cup of tea. She got through to Bing at Nant Glyn House and explained the urgency of the situation and finding Sue's inhaler in her room he set out at once.

X-X-X-X

It was approaching one thirty when Charles set out to walk the outlined route in reverse from Nant Glyn House aiming to intercept Molly if she was making her way back. How they could have missed her in the darkness or why she had set off alone on foot he just didn't know. She had made the call to Nant Glyn House, spoken to Bing and should have stayed where she was until someone collected her. When the four members of the blue team had reached him at the checkpoint and given the location of the accident he had immediately radioed through to Bing and been advised that they'd already had a call from Molly and were about to set out with transport to pick Sue up and take her over to the accident and emergency department in Bangor. Charles sent the rest of Blue group on their way to finish the course and set off to find Alex and Sue. He had reached them at about the same time as Bing and they had managed to carry Sue down to Bing's Land Rover. Alex accompanied them and Charles went off alone to the cottage to find Molly but when he got there he was told by Mr and Mrs Powell that she had left half an hour ago.

Although it was a relatively simple route to Nant Glyn House on fairly easy tracks, Charles couldn't rule out something having happened to Molly and if she had veered off the route by mistake or taken a short-cut it would be very difficult to find her before daylight. As he trudged up the path through the woods, his way lit by his head torch he heard the first light pattering of rain on the canopy of leaves overhead.

"Great!" That was all he needed. Searching in the rain.

Molly reckoned she was no more than half a mile from Nant Glyn House now. She had remembered everything they had been told this morning about taking compass bearings, checking she was staying on the same bearing as well as making visual checks on her surroundings as much as was possible in the dark. She was fairly sure that she was in the right place when the footpath started to run along the edge of a wood. According to the route they had been given it would veer off in a hundred yards or so and descend through the woods towards Nant Glyn House. She noticed that the path was starting to go downhill and surely enough, just ahead it turned off and led into the woods. She had just started her descent when the light on her head torch started to flicker, fade and then went out. She banged it with the flat of her hand and tried to twist it again in the vain hope it was just a loose connection but it was no good, the battery was well and truly dead.

"Never mind," she reassured herself, "just go steady and you'll be alright."

Without the light of the torch to assist, her progress was much slower. She walked rather gingerly feeling her way, her hands outstretched in the darkness ready to push anything away from her or break any sudden fall. She had only gone a few yards when, accompanied by a sudden gust of wind, she felt raindrops begin to splash on her face.

"Just your bloody luck, Molly Dawes, I bet everyone else is safely tucked up with their cocoa and you're out here crashing around in the wind and the rain."

No sooner had the words left her lips then her feet slipped from under her. She cried out, fell with an awkward crash onto her bottom and carried on sliding for a few feet before coming to rest in some undergrowth, disoriented and conscious of a pain in the area of her coccyx.

"Oh Shit!" she said with a degree of venom directed equally at herself and the cursed outdoors. She sat up and started rubbing her lower back, "Ouch!" She couldn't help herself, it was actually quite painful. She took a few deep breaths and forced herself to stand up. It hurt but she decided she could walk. She took a first tentative step forward and cried, "Oh fuck me, that hurts!"

Charles had heard the cry a few hundred yards ahead of him and concern hastened his steps. He moved along the path rapidly in spite of an incessant ache in his right leg. The walking of last weekend was beginning to catch up with him. As he drew nearer he heard another muffled voice and finally the unmistakeable tones of Molly cursing the fact she seemed to have hurt herself.

He called out, "Molly!"

There was a pause before the reply, "Who's that?"

"It's Charles, just stay where you are I'm making my way up to you."

He was about fifty yards away when the beam of his torch picked her out standing by the base of a tree rubbing her lower back. She looked up as he approached her and to his relief she seemed to be alright.

"Sent out the cavalry for me did they?" she joked, "Oh, sorry, wrong regiment, I s'pose."

"Well, I'm something like that," he replied. "Are you alright? I heard you shout." His voice was quiet and steady.

She nodded, "Just slipped over. 'Spect I'll have a few bruises that's all. Still at least I made it, didn't I? Do I get any extra team points for that?"

Charles had been rushing around for the past hour and a half trying to locate her. He had walked up and down the path from the field to the cottage, walked part of the path further on and had driven back round to Nant Glyn House before starting to walk the route in reverse. From her flippant remark it was clear she had no idea of the trouble she had just caused. His relief at finding her gave way to annoyance.

"You certainly _don't_ get any extra points, as you put it. What did you think you were doing?"

Molly sensed at once that he was cross although trying to control himself. "What do you mean?" she said.

He took a deep breath, "You never go off by yourself. That was stupid. Didn't you listen to the safety briefing this morning?"

"Of course I did, "she retorted, "but I had to go. It was urgent and Alex knew better than me how to deal with Sue. I made the phone call and when I went back they'd left. I dunno, maybe I took a wrong turning on the way back but I couldn't find anyone so I carried on. I had the map and I got here, didn't I? I thought you lot would have been pleased I managed that." What she meant was that she thought that _he_ would have been pleased but she didn't dare to say that much.

"You should have stayed where you were. Failing that, once you made that call you should have stayed at the cottage. That's the first rule. But thanks to your thoughtless actions we've been running around in circles trying to find you for nearly two hours."

She knew he was right but his tone of voice was winding her up. "I'm sorry, alright." She didn't sound it.

"Well, sorry, wouldn't go down very well if you were half-way up a mountain and had a mountain rescue team looking for you or the rescue helicopter had been called out, would it? You'd be endangering other people's lives for nothing not to mention your own. What would your fiancé say about that?"

She stared at him, "My fiancé?"

"That man you're engaged to. Remember? Or perhaps you've conveniently forgotten him…again?"

He immediately regretted his words. That remark was below the belt. He knew he ought to apologise but the truth was that he'd been very worried about her and right now seeing her standing there, full of spirit and feisty determination he knew that he envied that man so much.

She shook her head, tears pricking her eyes, dismayed by the sudden harsh tone of his voice. Yesterday he had seemed so different. He had been friendly, approachable and encouraging and yet here he was dragging up that night again. Hurt mixed with her anger.

"There is no fiancé," she yelled at him. "There never was one, alright? I just made him up to try to put you off. All I had was a tosser of a boyfriend who cheated on me, ditched me by text that morning and left me in debt. So you must be right, that does make me pretty stupid doesn't it?" She bit back the sob that was forming in her throat.

Her words had stunned him. By his torchlight he saw the misery on her face and tears forming in her eyes and knew he had overreacted again but this time it had been entirely out of concern and jealousy. Hearing her admit that there was no fiancé changed everything for him. He moved towards her whispering under his breath,

"That boyfriend was a fool."

He reached out to her, his arms encircling her waist as he pulled her in close to him. She offered no resistance and he lowered his head towards her, his mouth seeking out and finding hers in the darkness. She felt herself yield to the pressure of his kiss, her lips parting in response and her hands involuntarily moving to the back of his neck, grasping a few strands of curling hair and pulling him down closer and deeper. It had started to rain more heavily but neither of them noticed. His hand crept beneath her jacket, roaming across her back, appreciating the arch of her spine as she pressed herself against him, her hips meeting his. He moved a hand lower, skimming across her bottom and delighting in the softness of her flesh and the contours of her figure as the fingers of his other hand entwined in her hair whilst he held her face, feeling the warmth of her cheek against his palm. Gasping they broke apart. Her jacket was open and he began to trace the line of her jaw in soft, gentle kisses, gradually moving down her neck and into the hollow at the base of her throat, lost to everything but this moment. He had never wanted any woman as much as he wanted her.

"Will you come back to my room?" he murmured aware only of her stillness and uneven breathing as she continued to submit to his touch until without warning she sobbed, a long gasping sob and pulled away, trying to turn her head from him. He loosened his hold on her.

"Molly, what's wrong?"

Her words were almost obscured by the tremble in her voice, "Have I got loser tattooed on my forehead?"

He was confused, "What do you mean?"

She moved free of him stepping back two paces, "You're incredible. I can't believe I nearly fell for it all again. You've got a nerve."

"I'm sorry," he cried, "I shouldn't have said that, I just thought it was what you wanted too."

She shook her head, "Just leave me alone!"

She started to move away from him down the track, stumbling as she went.

"For God's sake, " he called after her in exasperation trying to catch her up. "At least take my spare torch you can't see where you're going."

She stopped and he reached into his jacket and pulled out a torch which he handed over to her. In the light he could see the tears in her eyes. He softened his voice,

"Please, Molly. I'm sorry if I've offended you somehow. I just feel…so much for you. Can't we just go back and talk about this."

"Talk?" She almost spat the word at him. "What, let you convince me all over again, like the last time. You really do think I'm stupid."

She turned from him and hurried as fast as she could down the track. He saw her limping and heard the sound of her wincing as she walked but he was rooted to the spot, utterly confused and wondering how such a blissful moment could have become as cold and bleak as the rain that was lashing down upon his face.


	7. Chapter 7

**_Thank you all for reading and for your kind reviews. I really appreciate your support._**

**Chapter Seven**

Molly stumbled back down the path through the woods towards the lights of Nant Glyn House. She could hear Charles some distance behind her but she had absolutely no intention of letting him catch up with her. In spite of the pain in her lower back she kept up the pace. Her emotions were in turmoil. Damn Charles for stirring everything up again and damn him because he hadn't been wrong. There had been a second or two back there in which she had just wanted to say, "Yes" and go with him back to his room. He had read her completely right. She _had_ wanted it too. But then she'd thought of the promise she'd made to herself after Rick had dropped her well and truly in the shit, that she wouldn't let anyone make a fool of her again and she just couldn't let him do that.

Anger carried her down through those woods, enabling her to ignore the pain but as she reached the lake and started to walk around to the house she began to remember the other side of Charles that she had seen during the last few days; the friendly, encouraging and supportive side of him. Surely it couldn't all be an act. He couldn't pretend to be something he wasn't. Other people seemed to like him too. She reasoned that there must be a nice person in him. That side of him was real and somehow that just made everything seem worse. She felt like slapping herself because she clearly was very stupid. Certainly stupid enough to give herself all the grief of falling for someone who might have been worth having if only everything had been different.

When Molly reached the house she found the lounge and hall to be deserted as all her colleagues had returned some time ago and gone to bed. She made her way upstairs, wincing at every step.

"God, what's the matter?" Kate cried as Molly burst through the door of their room and slammed it shut behind her. She was soaking wet and Kate could tell that she had been crying; in fact she was still sniffing.

"Are you hurt, Molly?"

Molly realised she was in danger of blurting everything out if she didn't pull herself together so she fell back on her accident as an excuse for her tears.

"Yes, I slipped over and I've banged my spine at top of my bum. It bloody well hurts." She couldn't contain herself any longer and burst into tears. Kate moved over to her and began to deal with her in a practical, motherly fashion that was in reality quite alien to her. She helped Molly get out of her wet clothes and into a hot shower before finding her nightclothes and saying she would go downstairs and get her a hot drink.

When Kate reached the hall, dressed in her pyjamas and dressing gown she found Ade and Charles standing there in discussion. Charles appeared to have just arrived as his coat was soaking wet. He turned his head, seeing Kate approaching.

"Have you seen, Molly?" he asked with concern written all over his face.

"Yes," Kate confirmed, "She's upstairs. I think she's hurt herself as she's quite upset."

"Do you think she needs a doctor?" Ade asked, taking a more pragmatic approach.

Kate shook her head, "I shouldn't think so. It's probably just bruises and stuff. Better see what it's like in the morning."

"Can I have a word with her?" Charles asked, knowing that he really should back off. Kate heard just the faintest note of emotion in his voice and combined with the concerned look on his face and Molly's obvious distress on her return, her suspicions were aroused.

She widened her eyes at Charles' question, "Molly's in the shower, so I don't think she'd be too keen on a chat right now."

Even in his agitated state, the fleeting mental image of Molly in the shower was still quite appealing to Charles.

"Right, well, perhaps you could tell her I'll catch up with her in the morning, if you wouldn't mind," Charles said trying to sound business-like.

Kate nodded, "Of course, I'll let her know." She disappeared off to the lounge to fetch a mug of tea for Molly from the vacuum jugs which had been placed there for the return of all the other delegates after the night exercise. The cogs in her brain were already turning and she set herself the task of finding out exactly what had been going on.

Ade turned to Charles. "Bing's on his way back from A and E in Bangor. It was just a nasty sprain it seems and everyone else is safely home now so I'm going to hit my pit. Goodnight Charles."

"Goodnight," he replied.

He saw Kate going back upstairs carrying the mug of tea and wished there was some way he could clear the air with Molly. He hated the idea of leaving this to fester overnight. The clock in the hall chimed two thirty and he realised that he should follow Ade's example. Perhaps when they'd all had a good night's sleep everything would seem better.

X-X-X-X

"Anyone at home?"

The loud, clear male voice, with just a hint of cockney, carried through the hallway. Bing opened the door of his office and peered out to see Kevin Jones, the Managing Director of CSF Management Consultants standing at the bottom of the stairs. Kevin looked every inch the successful, middle-aged business man that he was. He looked after himself, visited the gym on a daily basis, ate well and insisted on eight hours' sleep a night no matter how busy he was. Bing strode out towards him, smiling in welcome,

"Kevin, this is a pleasant surprise. Come to see what your employees have been up to?"

"Too right, Bing. I was expecting to find them all having breakfast seeing as its eight o'clock. Where are they?"

Bing told him about the night expedition and the fact that most of them hadn't got in until the early hours. Breakfast had been put back and there would be a later start time this morning. He took Kevin through to the office for a cup of tea and a chat about how things had gone.

When Charles strolled into the office thirty minutes later after having his customary morning coffee on the terrace he was surprised to see a stranger sitting opposite Bing. The man turned as Charles entered the room and Bing introduced him.

"Kevin, this is Charles James one of my course leaders. He's been working with the blue team this week."

Kevin stood and reached out to shake Charles by the hand. He was about six inches shorter than Charles, fair-haired, of striking appearance, well-groomed and well-dressed in smart-casuals. His handshake was firm and Charles felt his piercing blue eyes sizing him up.

"So you've had the pleasure of handling the likes of Peter Thornton, this week have you? He can be a bit of handful when he's in charge and quite a contrast to Maurice I'll bet." He laughed and added, "What about young Molly? Has she been behaving herself?"

Charles remembered Molly's comment about Kevin Jones being the one who had given her a chance and showed faith in her and wondered if he regarded her as some kind of protégée. He'd heard the story of Kevin's rise from unqualified school leaver to successful business man and could understand his interest in Molly given the similarity of their backgrounds. However, he had expected Kevin to seem older and more fatherly. Instead he was looking at a successful, dynamic man in the prime of his life.

"Well, Molly's quite a character, isn't she," Charles said, thinking to himself that Kevin didn't know the half of it.

Kevin laughed heartily, "Sounds like she's been giving you a hard time, Charles."

Charles smiled and hoped he wouldn't be struck down for lying when he replied, "Not at all."

When the CSF employees came down to breakfast to find their Managing Director in the Dining Room tucking into grapefruit and low fat yoghurt they were surprised but those who knew him well quickly reasoned it was typical of him to show such a practical interest in their activities. He never forgot where he had started out and believed that attention to detail was the key to success even if that meant driving two hundred miles to get first hand feedback from his management team. Molly walked gingerly into the room. She had bruises at the base of her spine from the fall last night and each step was painful. Kevin spotted her discomfort in an instant and called out

"What on earth have you been up to Molly?"

She grimaced and wandered at a snail's pace over to him.

"Bit of a mishap, last night, Kevin."

He stared at her, "For goodness sake, take the weight off your feet and sit down. What d'you want from the buffet. I'll get it for you."

When Charles popped his head around the door five minutes later wondering if he could catch a word with Molly, he saw her sitting opposite Kevin the pair of them apparently deep in conversation. Kate walked past him.

"Wanting a word with Molly?" she raised her eyebrows.

Charles hesitated, "I can see she's busy."

Kate looked in the same direction as Charles. Kevin was smiling and chatting and Molly appeared to be concentrating on his words.

"Yes, Kevin's a great supporter of our Molly." She glanced up at Charles, "I did tell her you'd catch up with her today."

He nodded, "Thanks."

Kate didn't add that Molly had pulled a face and muttered under her breath, "Not if I can help it."

X-X-X-X

The final round-up session had taken place, Kevin had publicly given his thanks to the three instructors and everyone was milling around with their bags in the hall ready to leave. Charles had been struggling all day to get within a few feet of Molly. It was as if she had a sixth sense and always managed to either start talking to someone else or disappear in the opposite direction as soon as he approached. At the start of the week he would have been grateful but now, watching the time tick by, he was becoming increasingly anxious that she would leave before they could exchange a single word that day. At one point he had even considered asking Kate to pass her another message but realised how strange that might look when she was a member of his own team.

Hugs and goodbyes were being exchanged and in the distance Charles caught sight of Mike helping Molly take her bag out into the courtyard. He was about to follow when Alex and Maurice came over to him to shake his hand and thank him. He exchanged a few pleasantries with them but was ever conscious of Molly having already gone outside. Then Sue also hobbled over to thank him for his help last night and he saw his opportunity.

"Please, let me give you a hand with your bag." She smiled her thanks and he lifted the holdall and followed her out to Dave Cairn's car.

As he turned around after placing the bag in the boot, he saw Molly standing by herself, her bag at her feet and seized his chance. He walked over to her in a firm deliberate manner. She saw him coming but realised there was nowhere to go. He could see that she looked nervous. His voice when he addressed her was neutral.

"Molly, please could we have a word in private."

She took a deep breath and refusing to look at him said, "There's nothing to talk about."

He pressed his point still trying to sound quiet and reasonable, "I disagree. I apologise for what I said yesterday. It was presumptuous of me."

Her eyes flashed in annoyance and she looked him directly in the eye.

"Presumptuous? Is that what you think I'm upset about?"

He sighed beginning to lose his cool and his way in the conversation, "Well aren't you? I assumed you were upset by my suggestion."

She scoffed, "Not the suggestion. Just who it's from."

He felt as lost as ever and a degree of desperation had crept into his voice, "So it's me, then. Forgive me, but I got the impression for a little while last night that you did like me." He saw her trying to avoid his gaze and possibly the hint of a blush on her cheeks. He lowered his voice, "Molly, just tell me, _please_, what I've done wrong?"

She inched closer to him and lowered her voice so that no one else nearby could hear.

"Do you really not understand that there's something wrong about kissing me and trying to lure me back to your room when you're already married?"

She didn't wait for an answer and turned from him so quickly that she didn't see the stunned look on his face. He watched her go, completely confused. Why on earth would she think he was married? Who could have told her that? He'd not discussed his private life once with the delegates during the week he was sure of it and no one else at Nant Glyn House would tell her something that wasn't true. He wanted to call out to her but there were people standing all around and then he saw Kevin Jones leaving the house, striding across the car park towards Molly, smiling and taking her bag to place in the boot of his Jaguar before politely opening the passenger door for her. She didn't even glance in his direction and within twenty seconds Kevin had started up the car and it was purring away down the drive.

He ran his fingers through his hair, watching the car disappear from sight totally perplexed by events. Until that moment last night when she'd confessed to the fictional fiancé, he had tried to keep his distance but knowing she was free had changed everything in his mind. He'd been shocked by her reaction last night but assumed it had been surprise at his behaviour, shock at him acting so quickly the minute he realised there wasn't another man on the scene or even outrage at his ill-judged, heat of the moment suggestion of which he wasn't entirely proud, but now he could see everything differently. She must have believed right from the start that he was married and all her animosity towards him had been driven by that belief. He realised now how staggered she must have been by his apparent jealousy of a fiancé and the way he had acted over the ring. In her eyes he had been in the wrong all the time and her behaviour made perfect sense. There was only one glimmer of hope in all of this. He knew she hadn't been pretending last night. However angry she was, he was sure she felt something for him.

X-X-X-X

"You're quiet, Molly. Tired out after last night?"

Kevin's enquiry disturbed Molly. She had been watching the road ahead of her lulled into some kind of stupor in which she didn't really need to think about anything except putting as much distance between herself and Nant Glyn House as possible. When he'd offered to give her a lift home to save Mike making a long detour across London to drop her off, she hadn't really considered that it would mean spending hours in close proximity to him making small talk. Thankfully, he'd been quiet for the last half an hour, so his question momentarily startled her.

"The night exercise you mean?"

"Well, I didn't think you'd been out clubbing, love." He was smiling as he spoke.

"I suppose it's catching up with me, now," she replied.

"Well, it's Saturday tomorrow you can have a lie-in. Got any plans for the weekend?"

She shook her head. Nights out on a very limited budget were few and far between. The last three months had been about scrimping and saving and trying to make every penny go as far as possible in order to make the rent. It was fortunate it was summer and she didn't need to heat the flat or she may have had to make the stark choice between heat and food. If she was honest it had been a relief to spend a week away on the course and be properly fed at someone else's expense.

"I thought you'd be going out and having a good time at your age. I know I was." Kevin glanced over at Molly. He could tell something was wrong.

"What's up?"

She toyed for a brief moment with telling him something about her problems but it was all too complicated and messy. She liked Kevin and he'd always been supportive and interested in her but he wasn't her father and she didn't feel it was right to unburden herself and tell him all her personal problems. He was, after all, only her employer.

"It's nothing Kevin. Well nothing that a good night's sleep won't sort out. You're probably right. I do just need a good lie-in."

He let the matter drop, but he wasn't fooled.

Two hours later after a few hold-ups on the motorway, inevitable on a Friday afternoon, he pulled up outside Molly's flat, a modest one bedroom apartment in an unremarkable modern block. It was close to a tube station, although it had been chosen more for its convenience for Rick's job than Molly's as it was a good thirty minute journey involving two changes. As they got out of the car Kevin looked up at the building and pulled a face.

"What made you choose this place?"

Molly shrugged, "I dunno, it seemed OK, I suppose."

"Did you get a good deal on the rent?" He was trying to fathom out why she would have chosen to move here when it wasn't ideal for her work commute and assumed there must be some material benefit to account for the choice.

"It's alright," she lied.

She reached out to take her bag from him but after the hours of sitting in his car, despite its manifold comforts, she was stiff and her back was aching She winced as she took the weight of the bag. Kevin grabbed it straight back from her.

"Don't be stupid. Come on, I'll take it up for you."

The last thing Molly wanted was Kevin looking inside her flat but he had already marched ahead carrying her bag and she had no option but to follow. When they reached the second floor and she opened the front door he followed her in and walked through to the small rather bare lounge which contained only one small two-seater sofa, a table and two chairs given to her by Kate and a small TV. Kevin glanced around him at the place, devoid of soft furnishings, rugs, pictures, personal possessions in fact everything that women used to make a place a home.

"How long have you been here?" he asked. The curiosity in his voice was evident to Molly.

"Three months," she mumbled.

She saw Kevin start a little and raise his eyebrows at the news, "You like the minimalist look, do you?"

He saw Molly's face fall at the joke and said, "Look, Molly. I know something's up. Why don't I make us a cup of tea and you tell me exactly what's going on."

He moved around to the kitchen area, filled the kettle with water and then started opening cupboards looking for some teabags. It became obvious to him within a few seconds that there was very little of anything to be found in the cupboards. He turned to her and could see the embarrassment written all over her face.

"You might as well know, I don't have any teabags or any milk, come to that," she admitted.

He gave her a long, searching look. He was a shrewd man, it was one of the reasons he'd been so successful in business. He was adept at sizing up situations and determining the best course of action and right now the Spartan nature of this flat with its lack of any home comforts combined with Molly's obvious low spirits told him something was very much amiss. He looked at his watch.

"You've got twenty minutes to get your glad rags on, Molly. I'm taking you out for dinner and we'll have a proper chat about a few things."

X-X-X-X

Charles drove south through the countryside of mid Wales watching the sun starting to sink to his right. He liked this route through places such as Newtown, Builth Wells, Brecon and Abergavenny in preference to the sat nav suggested route using the faster main roads. It was winding and twisty, taking him through all the principal towns and villages of this part of the world and undoubtedly took longer but it ran through beautiful countryside and he found the journey soothing, far more than snarled up A roads and motorways on a Friday evening in summer. Tonight there was no doubt that his spirits needed soothing. After the delegates had left on a Friday afternoon he usually enjoyed the peace and quiet and the feeling that for a few days the house and its grounds were at his disposal. Tonight, however, was different. He'd felt restless and dissatisfied and had struggled to keep his mind on the job as he and Ade went through the post course de-brief with Bing which was particularly necessary in the light of the problems that had occurred last night. It had taken some time to go through the events and determine whether they needed to take any action or change anything next time around. He listened and tried to keep his mind on the job but he was impatient to be gone and have a chance to get his own thoughts together.

He was still thinking about Molly and running his mind through all the events that had taken place this week, the looks she had given him, the things she had said and his own responses. He had replayed it all, trying without success, to find the answer to why it had ended so abruptly that way this afternoon. Something had been bothering him. Last night she said she had almost let him convince her again. Again? What had she meant? Was she talking about that night at the hotel? It stood to reason that something had happened that night to persuade her to take him back to her room. With his lack of memory he'd assumed that it must have been at her instigation but she was suggesting otherwise.

He searched his mind and the memory of her unhappiness returned, that moment they'd been sitting on the bed or had it been before that? He'd seen her wearing the ring and he knew it was an engagement ring. He'd remembered that so why hadn't he walked away like she'd intended. The long banished, hazy conversations of three months ago started to play out in his mind. He had walked into the bar, ordered drinks, felt annoyed with Rebecca and if he was honest bitter. Seeing Molly sitting alone he had wandered over and joined her, bought more drinks, talked about nothing in particular that he could recall, certainly nothing personal but then he had noticed the ring on her finger….

There was a layby up ahead. It turned out to be more than that; a viewpoint for a local beauty spot. He pulled into the car park, the wheels of the car crunching on the gravel as he came to a halt. He got out. The sun was setting and casting a golden glow across the valley spread out below him and the mountains of mid-Wales in the distance. He took a deep breath and finally opened his mind to that moment in the bar three months ago, willing himself to remember.

He had noticed the ring on her finger.

"That's unusual." He had touched the ring lightly with his forefinger noticing the hand and finger on which she wore it. "Is that significant?"

She had returned his gaze, clearly understanding his meaning and said in a quiet voice, "It might be."

He'd gone to the bar and bought a bottle of wine. When he got back to the table he'd been fumbling with the bottle and two glasses and dropped his wallet on the floor. She'd picked it up. He hadn't fastened the clasp and a photograph of Sam had fallen out. She stooped to pick it up and handed it back to him without a word.

They had drunk most of the wine. Well, he realised now that _he_ had drunk most of it whilst she had sipped hers and said very little. He remembered talking about being in the army and she'd asked about Afghanistan, showing more interest in the subject than he had expected, but all the time he had been irresistibly drawn to her. Her beautiful green eyes had been fixed upon him, watching intently, casting a spell upon him and when he'd dared to take her hand she hadn't resisted him but allowed him to caress her fingers and in that moment he had experienced the sudden and most profound sense of wanting someone. It had been more than that; he had needed her but was afraid that she wouldn't accept him. He had looked into her eyes and said,

"Do you think it's wrong for two people to spend the night together because it's what they want, if they both agree that it's just between them and no one else will ever find out."

She had stared at him weighing up his words for a full ten seconds and swallowed hard before answering, "No."

He shut his eyes and berated himself. It had been his own doing. He had been the one to give her the impression he was married. He hadn't said it outright, but he had nevertheless implied it. She'd seen the photograph of his son and it was what she had assumed. No wonder she'd been so angry with him especially last night. The memory of what he had said was making his own ears burn in embarrassment**. **It certainly sounded like the sort of crap a married man might use to get a girl into bed for some quick, meaningless liaison. When he'd said that to her he realised that he had been thinking of _her_ situation but she thought he had been talking about _both_ of them.

He had left that hotel room in the morning, still half-drunk, his senses and memory dulled and felt ashamed of himself for getting drunk and picking up a stranger in a bar, something he'd never done before but without recalling half of what had been said. He knew that he had deliberately tried to erase it from his mind and had done a pretty good job. Now he experienced the shame anew and magnified because Molly wasn't a stranger to him anymore.

The biggest irony that struck him almost immediately was that both of them had been mistaken in each other. When they had met in that hotel bar they had been free agents, wounded and hurt by other people but free to do whatever they wanted with a clear conscience. However, consciously or unconsciously they had both hidden behind the mantle of unavailability as an excuse to take one night's comfort and never see each other again.

He wasn't proud of himself or his actions that night and he realised now that Molly had similar feelings about herself. One thing however, was staring him in the face; Molly was important to him. Three months ago when they had met as strangers there had been a connection. Meeting her again this week despite all its awkwardness and complications had simply confirmed it. All of this was just one big misunderstanding, entirely of their own making, but he was determined now to do everything within his power to put things right.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

The family-run Italian restaurant was small, intimate and way off the beaten track. Molly had been surprised by Kevin's modest choice thinking he would prefer somewhere flashier but the food and the ambience were good and Kevin confessed that he knew the owners, Armando and Carla, having been at school with their son, Marco. It was Marco who had now taken over the day-to-day running of the restaurant.

"I don't suppose I would ever have ventured beyond a fried breakfast if it hadn't been for Marco's mum and dad. Back in the seventies, believe it or not, this represented exotic. I've been coming here for years. It's like home cooking to me now."

Molly looked around her. He was right. It was cosy and welcoming here and she'd noticed the effusive Italian welcome from Marco, hugging Kevin and kissing him on both cheeks and his attentiveness to them both. It must be nice to have somewhere like this to come to and be welcomed as a friend. Eating out had never featured highly in the Dawes family, beyond the occasional fry-up at the local greasy spoon or having a take-away Pizza. Lack of money was the main reason although fear of the unknown and an unadventurous palate also played its part.

Kevin talked generally for a while, asking a lot of questions about the course. Molly wished he wouldn't. Recalling the raft building exercise reminded her of that moment with Charles in the drying room when she had struggled to keep her attraction to him in check. Talking about the ropes courses brought back memories of his encouragement and support and the touching moment when he had told her he had faith in her. Memories of the night exercise were the worst. She could still feel the pressure of his lips upon hers and his arms around her and recall how, just for a few minutes, it had felt so natural and wonderful. She was tortured by the thought that it could never lead anywhere and she knew that, for the sake of her own sanity, she really ought to try to banish it from her mind.

Kevin waited until they had finished their main course and drunk half a bottle of wine before he brought up the subject that Molly had been dreading.

"Tell me, Molly, how did you end up living in that flat you can't afford?"

She was glad the light was muted because her face was burning with embarrassment, "I was supposed to be sharing with someone and they let me down. Couldn't get out of the contract."

Kevin frowned, "Why didn't you tell your mum and dad how bad things were?"

She shrugged, "What could they do about it? They haven't got a penny to spare and my mum thought I was mad moving out in the first place. Probably because she needed the housekeeping, mind."

"Because of Rick the Prick?" He saw Molly start in surprise and he laughed. "Do you think I don't get to hear a bit of the gossip? Well if it's any consolation I agree, the guy is a prick but unfortunately, his employer is a valued client so that's strictly between us." He gave her a meaningful look.

"I was too proud to tell them," Molly admitted.

"Thought as much." Kevin nodded. "What's the damage?"

"What do you mean?" Molly asked.

"How much do you owe?" Kevin repeated.

He saw Molly squirming, clearly embarrassed at the mention of money. He leaned in closer to her and lowered his voice.

"I'll let you in on a secret. I've had to swallow my pride and ask for some help once or twice in my career. You know that saying, 'no man is an island' well the same's true for a woman. I think you've got yourself into a bit of mess and a helping hand wouldn't go amiss. So, how much do you owe?"

She swallowed hard. Her voice was little more than a whisper, "Last month."

"How long are you tied-in for?"

She sighed, "Another three months."

"Right, I'll sort it out on Monday."

"You can't," Molly protested. "Look, I made a mistake and I'll have to sort it out somehow, myself. You can't just waltz in waving a magic wand. It's not right."

Kevin started laughing, "I've been called a lot of things in my time, Molly Dawes, but Fairy Godmother 'aint one of them." He looked her in the eye, "Call it an advance if it offends your sensibilities. You can pay it back when you want."

Molly had to admit that it was a huge weight off her shoulders and would help her to get herself financially straightened out but she felt awkward about accepting Kevin's offer. No one had ever done something like that for her before. She was determined that when the contract was up she would move out and find somewhere cheaper. There was no denying, though, that she was in a bind and he was the only person who could help.

"Thank you Kevin. I really appreciate it."

He smiled, "Well, I can't have one of my best employees worrying about something like paying the monthly rent, can I? I need you focused on the job and while we're on that subject, how do you like where you are at the moment?"

"Kate and Mike are great. I've learned loads from them." She looked heavenwards with a smirk on her face, "You know, a bit of tact and diplomacy, not always opening my big gob and sticking both feet in."

Kevin nodded. "Well, I've heard good reports from them and from clients." Molly looked surprised, "I keep my ear to the ground. It's the details that matter." He took a deep breath, "How would you feel about a change?"

"What sort of change?" Molly replied.

"A new challenge. Working at Head Office, with me. I'm looking for a Personal Assistant." Molly felt his gaze upon her, watching for her reaction. She was stunned. She'd already been embarrassed about him sorting out her money worries and hadn't expected to be looking at a new job offer as well.

"I'm not a secretary," she said.

He laughed, "I'm not looking for a secretary. I've already got one. I'm looking for someone with a bit of energy and initiative who knows my business and my employees. Someone I can rely on. Another set of eyes and ears, if you like. What do you reckon?"

He watched her face and saw her mind turning over all the possibilities. This was a fantastic opportunity for a girl like her who had started in his company with nothing to recommend her but a smart attitude, her wit and determination. The fact that the idea had only popped into Kevin's head about fifteen minutes ago and he would probably have to spend half an hour on Monday trying to justify the increased headcount and expenditure to Philip Walters, the Finance Director, was something he put to one side. He could see Philip questioning the hasty nature of the decision, whilst Helen Templeton, the Human Resources Manager, would be asking him for a copy of the full job description and questioning why the position wasn't being advertised externally. These were not prospects he looked forward to, but at the end of the day, he reasoned, it was his business and he should be able to make a decision like that if he wanted.

He could see Molly still weighing up the idea and clearly still uncertain what the job would entail.

"Look," he said reasonably, "why don't you have a think about it and come up to Head Office on Monday morning about ten o'clock and we'll discuss it all in more detail, then." It would also give him time to work out exactly what she was going to be doing and to invent his justifications ready for the grilling he would get from his senior team.

She nodded. "OK. Thank you."

Kevin dropped her back at her flat, stopping off on the way to call in at a late-night corner shop to buy her some milk, teabags and a loaf of bread. He hadn't accompanied her upstairs and she was glad. It had been bad enough showing him where she lived the first time although in the space of a few hours it felt as if everything had started to change for the better. She didn't like being beholden to someone but perhaps Kevin was right and there was no harm in accepting a helping hand when it was offered.

X-X-X-X

Molly was dreaming that she was back at Nant Glyn House, taking part in the Krypton Factor challenges and trying to move the metal ring around the buzz wire without touching it. Charles was standing directly opposite her and no matter what she did she couldn't move the ring without the wire buzzing, even when she didn't touch it. He kept shaking his head and staring at her intently with those deep brown eyes and saying, "What have I done wrong?". It was distracting her. The buzzing wouldn't stop. She was roused her from her sleep and realised with a start that it was coming from the entry system in the hall. She staggered out of bed and down to the front door to glance at the security screen.

"Morning! Shopping delivery!" She could see a young man in a supermarket uniform holding a clipboard.

"What? Are you sure?" she replied. It had to be a mistake. He flipped through the paperwork.

"It says here, Molly Dawes, Flat 3. Ordered last night."

Five minutes later, looking at the pile of supermarket bags all over her kitchen floor after the delivery man had left and realising there was enough food here for a family of four to eat, Molly shook her head in disbelief. She knew who she had to thank for this. Twenty-four hours ago she'd dreaded returning here. Things had been bleak even before the trouble with Charles had added to her woes but suddenly there was a little glimmer of hope on the horizon. If Kevin was acting like a Fairy Godmother to her she supposed that made her Cinderella. The only pity, she reflected, was the lack of a Prince Charming.

X-X-X-X

Sitting on the intercity train bound for Paddington on Monday morning, Charles recalled that it was the first time he had been to London since that night with Molly. The train journey home to Bath on that occasion was almost as hazy as the whole night had been and his abiding memory had been of a severe hangover that had lasted until the following day. He had been fortunate then that his parents were away. Despite the fact he was a grown man his mother wouldn't have been amused. In fact, she would probably have blamed him even more because he should have known better.

Time had seemed to drag at the weekend and Charles had felt terribly guilty. It was his weekend with Sam and the last thing he wanted was to be wishing the time away. None of this was Sam's fault and he deserved his father's full attention. He forced himself to put thoughts of Molly to the back of his mind and tried to reason that a couple of days' break might put the situation into perspective for both of them. The weather was fine and it was fortunate that Sam's overriding wish on arriving at Grandma's house was go to the children's play area in Royal Victoria Park. It was one of the great benefits of living in central Bath. The beautiful park was within easy walking distance of his mother's house and as they strolled down the hill together Sam talked happily about school and his friends, needing little contribution from Charles. No sooner had they gone through the gate into the play area then Sam was gone, charging off to climb in the adventure playground among the hordes of other children playing there. Charles sat on the grass keeping watch from a distance but his mind was already drifting off to the place that he imagined Molly to be, wondering what she was doing and how she passed her time at weekends.

When they had returned to his parents' house, Charles mother had taken Sam off to help her prepare lunch, keen to spend some time with him on her own and Charles had donned a pair of thick rigger gloves and taken on the task of clearing the brambles at the end of the garden in preparation for the summer house his mother kept mentioning. He had no particular love of gardening jobs but no skill was required and at the moment anything that passed the time and kept his mind occupied was welcome. He had been out there for almost an hour when his father brought him a cup of tea and asked him if he was alright.

Charles had shrugged, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You seem a bit distant, if I'm honest, son. Your mother's noticed it too. Everything going alright with your job?"

"The job's fine, Dad. It's ideal, really. Just a shame it's so far from here. From everyone."

His father nodded with sympathy. Fate hadn't been kind to Charles with the break up of his marriage, the enforced separation from his son and the loss of his career after his injury in Afghanistan. It wasn't the life any parent would have wanted for their son, but he was proud of the way Charles had coped and adapted to his changing circumstances.

His father leaned towards him and clapped him on the back.

"You never know what's just around the corner. Fingers crossed, eh."

"Yes, "Charles agreed, "fingers crossed."

Later, after lunch, they had all taken Sam to the cinema to see the latest animated release. Charles didn't really enjoy children's films very much and switching his mind off altogether in the darkness, he succumbed to the tiredness that his nervous energy had been holding at bay for the past few days. His eyes grew heavy, they closed and he drifted off, somehow continuing to hear everything whilst his mind wandered in a semi-conscious state mixing fiction with dreams into which Molly inevitably wandered. When he opened his eyes with a start at the sound of a loud explosion on screen he caught sight of his mother's amused face watching him whilst Sam, sitting next to him, remained oblivious to everything.

Coco Pops on a Sunday morning had become a ritual. Sam and Charles sat at the breakfast table in conspiratorial silence munching the forbidden treat whilst Grandma looked on, mildly disapproving, but unwilling to spoil this moment of father and son bonding. They had so few opportunities to spend time together that she wasn't going to ruin this by siding with Rebecca over sugary breakfast cereals. She had organised a treasure trail and sent the men of the house out for the morning whilst she prepared a traditional Sunday lunch. Sam enjoyed chasing around looking for the clues and even though Charles knew the city very well, he was surprised by some of things they discovered as they put the pieces of the puzzle together to find the final answer. Lunch passed in happy discussion of the morning's activities and all too soon it was time for Sam to leave.

When Charles had taken Sam home, as agreed, in time for tea he had broached the subject with Rebecca of him coming to stay with Charles at Nant Glyn House for a week in August. He had been standing in the hall of Rebecca's smart, lifestyle magazine home, still holding Sam's bag and feeling awkward as Sam had disappeared from sight almost as soon as he walked through the door. Rebecca looked mildly put out by Charles' request.

"We didn't discuss this when we previously agreed dates."

"I know," Charles said trying to be reasonable, "that's why I'm raising it now. Sam could stay at the Crosby's house. They have children his age. He would be well looked after while I'm working and at the moment there's a quiet week in August."

Rebecca pulled a face, "I'll have to think about it. There may be other things planned."

"What do you mean? Are there or aren't there?" He could never quite fathom how these arrangements came into being.

"It's not that simple," Rebecca said with a degree of exasperation, "his school friends may be planning to invite him to things during the holidays."

"But they haven't yet," Charles said with a sigh. "Can't you just tell anyone he's away on holiday? Surely, that's how it normally works."

He saw the expression in Rebecca's eyes harden. "Don't start, Charles. I've said I'll think about it and I'll let you know."

He knew there was no point in trying to go any further with this discussion. She had made up her mind that agreement would have to be on her terms. Any further attempt to elicit an answer would probably result in an argument. Rebecca called out to Sam.

"Sam, come here. Daddy's leaving."

There was an awkward twenty seconds or so of silence in which Charles and Rebecca waited for Sam to return neither wishing to speak to the other. When Sam finally did appear he was clutching a red football shirt in his hand.

"Look, Dad. Rob's got me City's new season shirt and it's got my name on the back." He turned it around to show the white lettering spelling 'JAMES' on the back. Charles smiled and ruffled his hair.

"That's nice, Scamp. It's very kind of Rob. I hope you said thank you."

Rob appeared in the hall and walked towards them, "Of course he did." He nodded at Charles, his customary greeting and acknowledgement in all situations.

"Well, I'd better be going. Be good, Scamp." Charles bent to hug his son and give him a kiss.

"Goodbye Rebecca." He nodded in Rob's direction, "Rob."

As he reached the door he said firmly, "I'll wait to hear from you."

Rebecca gave just the merest nod in response and as he walked away he didn't rate his chances of success.

When Charles had returned to his parents' house it hadn't taken him more than a few minutes to find out where Molly worked. After searching for the website of CSF Management Consultants Limited, selecting the sales division and locations he had quickly found the address and telephone number of the branch managed by Mike Robinson. With the extra three days leave he had been given, thanks to the cancellation of the short course next week, he had decided to go up to London, talk to Molly and try to sort out this misunderstanding between them.

The train was on-time and pulled into Paddington just before midday. Charles headed down to the underground joining the throngs of other commuters, tourists and residents all moving in the same direction onto an increasingly crowded platform. He glanced up at the information board and sighed. There were delays and no information on the time of the next train. It seemed as if everything was always conspiring to put a spoke in the wheel of his potential happiness, even the bloody underground. Being delayed was just another problem to overcome. He didn't know if telling Molly the truth about him would make any difference to her opinion in the long run but it mattered to him that she knew he wasn't the cheating rat that she imagined and that his feelings for her were genuine. He just prayed that she would give him a chance.

X-X-X-X

Kate had not been looking forward to going back to the office on Monday morning. Taking time out of the office whether it was holiday or work usually involved having to put in a lot of time beforehand to clear her desk of as much backlog as possible and work late on her return to clear the inevitable pile-up of work that hadn't been handled by her assistant due to either overload or lack of experience. Today was no different. She saw the look of relief on Sasha's face as she walked through the door and guessed that there would be a lot of problems to resolve. She could usually have passed a few things to Molly who could be relied on to help her out but this wasn't going to be the case today.

Mike had already been in work when she arrived, telling Jo all about the course last week as well as throwing in a detailed description of his eight year old daughter, Phoebe's, successful attempt at her two hundred metre swimming badge on Saturday morning. Jo didn't look enthralled by the tale. She was listening politely but had half an eye on her computer screen. Mike was about to recount the high and low points of the final fifty metres when he caught sight of Kate and broke off.

"Morning, Kate. Had a nice restful weekend? Recovered from the rigours of the course?"

She smiled, "Yes thanks. I had a nice lie-in and Phil even obliged with breakfast in bed yesterday."

Mike glanced at the clock on the wall, "Molly's late this morning. Delays on the Circle Line, possibly?"

"She won't be in today, Mike." Kate replied. "It seems as if Kevin Jones has plans for her. She texted me to say she's up at Head Office today and said Kevin will give you a ring about it."

Mike raised his eyebrows, "I see." He turned to Jo, "Looks like you and me will be covering Molly's stuff today. We'd better crack on." He turned to make his way back to his desk and Jo exchanged looks with Kate. She wasn't sorry to have the swimming pool tales brought to an abrupt end. Mike had already spent ten minutes recounting the tale before Kate arrived.

Kate started sifting through the paperwork on her desk but her mind was on other matters. She hadn't been strictly truthful with Mike, believing that, as he was the Branch Manager, she should leave it to Kevin to explain Molly's absence. Molly had initially sent Kate a text yesterday about being at Head Office on Monday but Kate had been far too curious to leave it at that. She had called Molly back within five minutes and wormed all the details out of her, the journey back on Friday evening, the dinner and the job offer. The last piece of news had been the most surprising. She was genuinely stunned that Molly should be offered such a position and apparently out of the blue. It was a great opportunity, no doubt, but she wondered what had prompted it. She had believed that Molly had been sent on the course as promotion had been on the cards, perhaps to a supervisor position or even an assistant manager but Personal Assistant to the Managing Director? She wondered what skills Kevin was looking for and how Molly matched up. She didn't begrudge her friend this chance but there was something sudden and odd about it; she was pretty sure that Mike would think so too.

X-X-X-X

Charles felt his heart thumping in his chest as he caught sight of the bold red letters C.S.F. emblazoned across the shop front office on the High Street. He was standing on the opposite side of the road about fifty yards away, reconnoitring the place and getting a feel for where Molly worked. It had taken longer than he had expected to reach the office thanks to the delay at Paddington and getting lost after leaving the tube station. It was about one forty five now and he wondered what to do next. The shop front of the office was covered mainly in boards advertising vacancies under the headings 'permanent', 'temporary' and 'contract'. He hadn't really thought beyond getting here and now that he was faced with the possibility of actually speaking to Molly he wondered how to do it without arousing suspicion. Obviously, Kate and Mike would recognise him immediately if he strolled into the office and Molly would feel embarrassed if he asked to speak to her. He decided that the first thing to do would be to make sure that she was there and the only way to do that was to cross the road and take a look.

He ventured across the High Street dodging the busy traffic and then strolled casually towards the office. As he reached the plate glass frontage he paused and pretended to be reading the advertisements outside whilst trying to glance through the gaps in the boards, all the time dreading being spotted by someone who knew him. He couldn't see very much, just some desks and a couple of women he didn't recognise. He stepped sideways towards the next row of advertisements and caught sight of an empty desk nearer the window bearing a name plaque. He squinted and saw the name 'Molly Dawes' written upon it. At the same moment he caught sight of Kate sitting in the corner of the office. She had her head turned away from him but he moved back out of the way in time to avoid being seen. He realised that it was still lunchtime and entirely possible that Molly was on her break. Glancing around him he saw a coffee shop called _'Jackie's'_ directly opposite and decided it would better to go in there where he could wait less conspicuously for Molly to return

A bell on the door tinkled as Charles pushed it open. The smell of fresh coffee wafted in the air accompanied by the whooshing of espresso machine. It was cosy in the manner of a village teashop rather than the street-smart style of coffee shop chains that seemed to adorn most high streets across the country. It was also soon apparent to Charles that the owner of the eponymous _'Jackie's'_ was one of a kind. A free-thinking and spirited individual, she was of indeterminate age and dressed in a colourful array of loose flowing garments in which silk scarves were a major feature particularly as headwear. This was not a coffee shop manned by baristas. Each customer was the beneficiary of Jackie's individual attention and interest.

"Good afternoon." She smiled in welcome. "Are you new to _'Jackie's'_?"

Charles nodded and replied cautiously, "Yes, I am."

"Well, I'm sure you will find something here to suit your tastes. We have a full range of teas: herbal, green, fruit, organic, of course, as well as freshly brewed coffee. Please consult our menus and the specials board to my right and left, "she indicated almost in the manner of a flight attendant, "and if I can be of any assistance, don't hesitate to ask. Please take a seat and I will come over to take your order when you're ready."

It was a long time since Charles had received such an effusive welcome and he was almost inclined to just ask for a coffee and be done with it but he thought he should at least have the good grace to peruse the menu after she had made such an effort to be welcoming and taking a copy moved to the table nearest the window from where he could keep an eye on the office across the street and wait for Molly's return.

More than two long hours later, in a deserted coffee shop, Jackie, who had been washing up, wiping down tables, sweeping up the floor whilst singing _'Let it go'_ and generally preparing to shut for the past half an hour, hoping that Charles might take the hint, sidled over to him and asked in a curious voice,

"Would you care for a fourth cup of coffee?"

Charles looked up and pulled a face, "Not sure I could manage another, thanks."

Jackie took the empty cup from him and leaning over him in a conspiratorial manner said, "Are you a police officer on surveillance or a stalker?"

Charles wanted to laugh but apart from the fact that he wasn't a policeman, she wasn't entirely wrong on either count. He had been watching and waiting here all afternoon but there had been no sign of Molly and he suspected she was unlikely to be returning. It was disappointing but he should have realised this might not be as straightforward as it had seemed.

He shook his head at Jackie's question.

"I'm just waiting for a friend who seems to be late."

"Give them a ring!" Jackie called wandering into the kitchen at the back. He glanced across the road. The telephone number of the office was written in large letters under the name. Jackie was right. He took out his phone and dialled the number. After a few rings the phone was answered by a young woman's voice he didn't recognise.

"CSF, good afternoon, Sasha speaking. Can I help you?"

"Could I speak to Molly Dawes, please?"

He knew she wasn't there as Sasha confirmed to him.

"Will she be back this afternoon?" He asked, his fingers crossed.

"I'm sorry; she's out all day today. You could try tomorrow or can anyone else help?"

Charles thanked her and rang off. Unfortunately, no one else could help him. The only person he wanted to speak to was Molly. He sighed and sat back in his chair wondering what to do next. He could risk speaking to Kate but it would be an awkward conversation and he had the feeling that Molly wouldn't thank him for involving her friend. He had another day yet in which to do something. He simply had to think of something. In the meantime he decided to give Ade a call and see if he could possibly cadge a bed for the night at his place. He couldn't help, however, but feel a little downhearted. He was afraid that the more time that passed without a chance to talk, the harder it would be to win Molly round.

"No sign of your friend, then?" Jackie had come back into the room.

"No, she couldn't make it, it seems," he replied.

"Have you never heard the saying, 'faint heart never won fair maiden.'" Jackie said.

Charles smiled. "There's nothing faint about my heart. That's for sure."

"OK, then. 'If at first you don't succeed, try, try again'." Jackie said.

Charles laughed. "Do you have many more of those up your sleeve, Jackie?"

"Oh, dozens love!" She said with a wink in his direction, "What are you going to do?"

He nodded at her "See you tomorrow and give it another try."

"That's the spirit." She watched Charles get up from the table. "As Scarlet O'Hara would say, 'tomorrow is another day'." Charles gave her a long quizzical look. "I told you, I've got plenty more where that came from," Jackie said with a grin and in spite of himself, he laughed.

"Bye Jackie."

Jackie shut the shop door behind him before turning the sign to 'closed'. She stood and watched him walk slowly up the High Street, lost in his thoughts a hint of dejection in his gait and shook her head with a sigh.

"Lucky lady."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Charles, yawned, stretched his arms over his head and uncurled his long legs from the foetal position in which he had been lying on the sofa in Giselle's flat. He flexed his leg muscles a few times trying to bring some life back into his stiff limbs and wake himself up. Despite the generous proportions of Giselle's smart, period conversion garden flat, it still only possessed one bedroom so Charles had been offered the sofa in the lounge for the night. He had slept in many uncomfortable conditions and inhospitable locations during his military career, so the sofa drew no complaints from him.

Ade had been surprised to get his call yesterday but hadn't hesitated when Charles had rather awkwardly asked if he might stay the night. He hadn't even paused to consider Giselle, saying, "Don't worry, she'd love you to stay." Thankfully, he was right and Giselle had appeared to be delighted and welcomed him like an old friend in spite of the fact they had only met twice before when she had ventured up to Nant Glyn House for a weekend. He had been invited for dinner. It was a warm evening and they had sat out in the garden afterwards, drinking wine, sociably passing the time and talking in an easy manner about what had seemed like every subject under the sun except the reason Charles was in London.

Charles trailed a leg out from under the duvet, feeling too warm under the covers as heat from the morning sun began to penetrate the curtains drawn across the French doors leading out onto the garden. He manoeuvred himself to lie at an angle allowing him to straighten out and thought about getting up and dressing. He glanced at his watch; it was almost eight o'clock. He didn't want to get in the way, if Giselle was about to get ready for work. As if on cue, the lounge door opened with a creak and Giselle's face appeared around the edge of the door. She smiled.

"Morning Charles. Did you sleep well?" Not waiting for an answer, she floated into the room, swathed in a pale blue, silk wrap, her luscious ebony locks, tousled from sleep and fanning out across her shoulders. Even first thing in the morning, in muted light and without make-up anyone could see that Giselle Channing was beautiful. With a wealthy father, an expensive private school education behind her and all the right social connections, she was living a charmed life among the beautiful people and dabbling with a career in PR. The thing that Charles liked about her, however, was that for all the material and social advantages life had given her and the presence of all the exterior trappings of privilege from designer shoes and handbags to the way 'darling' tripped off her tongue at regular intervals, there was still a generous and kind person at the heart of that life who took an interest in other people. She had talked at length last night about the problems her cleaner was having as a single parent whose first language was not English, trying to access the services and benefits her disabled five year old son needed. Giselle was helping her deal with all the paperwork and applications and had taken it upon herself to make enquiries to assist her. In spite of her apparent flightiness she was a good-hearted person who cared.

"Would you like a coffee, Charles?"

He nodded, "Thanks."

"Any plans for today?" she asked turning away to get some mugs from the kitchen cupboard.

"Not really, I'll just see how it goes." He was deliberately vague but knew exactly what his next step would be. He had mentioned last night that he might not be returning to Bath today and had already been invited to stay another night. He just hoped that there would be a good reason to stay.

Giselle brought him over a mug of coffee and opened the curtains a little way. The sunshine streamed into the room. He pulled the duvet over him conscious of the fact he was only wearing a pair of boxers. Giselle seemed to have no qualms about this or the fact that as she flopped herself down in one of the armchairs her wrap slipped open revealing a shapely, tanned thigh of which she was quite oblivious. She was gloriously at ease with herself in his company and carried on drinking her coffee and chatting about various matters without any concern for the flimsiness of her nightwear. Charles averted his eyes and tried to focus on watching her face. He caught the end of something about a charity ball that evening and realised she was telling him she and Ade would be out, so she would give him a spare key before she went to work. He nodded his thanks and then she exclaimed,

"Oh goodness, is that the time, I really must go and get myself glammed up a bit. My boss gets tetchy if I don't show by ten thirty, but I really do have to stop off for a latte en route or I'm absolutely no use to anyone."

She strolled out of the room and Charles finished his coffee hearing the sound of running water coming from the bathroom and later a hair-dyer at full volume. It was well after nine o'clock before Giselle appeared again dressed to the nines in a clinging red dress that showed off her fabulous curves, hair and make-up immaculate, killer heels and handbag on show, ready to do battle with the rest of London's commuters. Charles had pulled on some jeans and a sweater and felt more comfortable this time.

"Here's that key, I promised." She held it out to him and leaned over to kiss him briefly on the cheek. The scent of Chanel wafted in his direction, "Mmh, love that unshaven look, Charles." She winked at him. "Be a darling and drop a hint to Ade will you? He's feeling a bit sorry for himself this morning. The poor baby's got a cold." She was heading to the door, "Help yourself to breakfast. See you later, maybe." She waved and was gone.

Charles had picked up a few essential overnight items yesterday before arriving at Giselle's flat. He washed and shaved and returned to the lounge to find Ade sitting there in a dressing gown, nursing a hot mug of lemsip and looking pale and peaky. When he spoke Charles could hear from his nasal tones and croaky voice that he obviously did have a cold.

"Bloody hell, Charles," he said looking at his friend. "Wish I could summon up the energy to get dressed but I do feel rough this morning. To start with I thought I'd had one too many last night or suddenly developed raging hay fever." He rubbed his temples. "Are you off out?"

Charles nodded. "I've got a couple of things to do this morning." He was deliberately vague. "Giselle gave me a key in case you're out later."

Ade coughed, "Not much bloody chance of that, old man, I'm going back to bed." He raised himself from the chair and shuffled back in the direction of the bedroom calling, "See you later."

Charles heard the bedroom door shut and picked up his phone. He had made a plan last night and had resolved to call Molly's office this morning and find out if she was there. If she was, he would speak to her directly, tell her the truth about himself and ask her to meet him. He dialled the number of her office. The same young woman he had spoken to yesterday, Sasha, answered the phone again. She was apologetic and confirmed his fear that Molly wasn't in the office at the moment and wouldn't be there again today. Charles began to wonder whether she was ill or on holiday but the girl had offered neither as an explanation and he didn't want to pry. He thanked her and rang off. He would have to follow plan B.

X-X-X-X

Molly listened to the two representatives from an IT software company pitching a bespoke new system designed to read and analyse the uploaded CV's of candidates. They claimed their system was faster and analysed more details than any other comparable system on the market. She watched Kevin grill them about the details, displaying a thorough knowledge of his business and the sector and testing them to see how their knowledge matched up. She got the distinct impression that the representatives were on a hiding to nothing. They glanced nervously at one another a few times and hesitated before answering questions. Even with her knowledge restricted to what Kevin called the 'sharp end', at the branch, she realised there were problems with the design they were pitching. As they finally wrapped up, Kevin turned to her and said,

"Anything you'd like to add, Molly? Any questions?"

She paused, wondering if she ought to say what was in her mind or whether he was just being polite. She saw Kevin nod with encouragement,

"I wasn't clear from your answer whether this system will integrate with our existing admin system."

She saw one of the men almost grimace before the other launched into some vague flannel about continuing to work with clients on refinements.

Kevin thanked them and Molly showed them out of the building before returning to his office for a post-mortem. This was the third such meeting she had attended in the last two days. Kevin was keen for her to spend a few days shadowing him and getting a feel for the type of work he did on a day-to-day basis. They had also been on three branch visits and she had accompanied him to a meeting with an important client to whom he was pitching for more business. It had been a chance for Molly to see him in action and she had been impressed. He was business-like and to the point but engaged well with clients, knew his business and their requirements inside out and he instilled them with a sense of trust in him. It was varied and interesting and she was beginning to feel that she might enjoy working with him very much and learn a vast amount from his experience.

"Nice question, Molly," Kevin commented as soon as she walked back into his office. He was sitting behind his desk, leaning back in the black leather executive chair and scanning through the documents the representatives had left.

"In fact, that was the crux of the matter, really. A nice system but it won't work with ours, at least not at the moment."

He put down the papers and pushed them to one side of his desk.

"So, how do you like it here at Head Office? Think you might want to make this permanent?"

"It's very different," she replied honestly. "I'm learning about a lot of things I didn't know went on. I didn't realise your job involved so much. But it's interesting."

"Interesting," Kevin repeated, "that can mean a lot of things."

"In a good way, "Molly laughed. "Although I do enjoy talking to the regular candidates and clients at the branch. I like getting to know people a bit. You know, the social side of things."

Kevin sat back, a thought coming to his mind. "How would you care to attend a social event this evening? I bought tickets for a summer charity ball a few weeks ago. It's a corporate fundraiser, really. I hadn't planned on going but what do you think? Would you like to take a look at the social side of my job?"

Molly was surprised, "A ball? I've never been to one before, Kevin."

He shrugged, "It's just an excuse to dress up and have a fancy dinner and some dancing really. You don't have to curtsey to the Queen or anything."

Molly laughed but she wasn't sure. It sounded like it might be fun but she didn't think she'd have anything to wear. "What do you mean by 'get dressed up', Kevin?"

He gave her a long look, "Black tie for men, ball gown, or evening dress for the ladies."

She pulled a face, "I'm not really a ball gown sort of girl. Might have to give it a miss, I think."

He was astute and he realised her difficulty straight away; she was worrying about clothes.

"I'm guessing there aren't a lot of balls in East Ham, Molly"

"Well not that sort, Kevin," she retorted like a shot.

Kevin laughed aloud. He loved her sense of humour; it reminded him of the world in which he'd grown up.

"Well, I'm sure that we can fix that problem, Molly, and then maybe you will go to the ball."

He picked up the telephone and buzzed through to his secretary.

X-X-X-X

Jackie looked up at as bell on the door tinkled, alerting her to Charles entering the coffee shop. He was smiling at her.

"Back again, like a bad penny," he said as he approached the counter.

"Not that bad," she replied. "Are you back for another stake-out or was it just my company you wanted?"

Charles lowered his voice to avoid being overheard by the five or six other customers in the shop.

"I'm here to ask a favour, Jackie. I need you be a postman for me."

He had thought long and hard about what to do if he couldn't speak to Molly directly and decided he would ask Jackie to take a note into Molly's office for him to avoid the attention of Kate and Mike. He didn't want to incur more displeasure from Molly by alerting everyone to his interest in her. He saw a look of genuine surprise cross Jackie's face. He held out a white envelope with _'Molly Dawes – Private and Confidential' _written in the curling lettering of his handwriting. She glanced at the envelope and said in surprise,

"Molly?"

It was Charles' turn to be taken aback. "Do you know her?"

"Yes, 'course I do, love. She comes in here most mornings to get a take-out, although I haven't seen her for over a week now. Was it Molly you were waiting to see yesterday?"

There was no denying it and he nodded.

"So she's the lucky lady," she muttered under her breath. Charles felt embarrassed.

She took the letter from him, "What do you want me to do, love?"

He asked her to just take the letter into the office and ask the receptionist to place it on Molly's desk for her.

"Is it a love letter? You can tell me to mind my own business if you like"

He smiled, "Not exactly."

It had probably been the most difficult letter he had ever written and it had taken several drafts to get it right. He wanted it to have the right tone, to let her know she was under a misapprehension but not to make her feel embarrassed about the mistake. He also wanted her to know that whatever had happened before, he genuinely wanted to start again and get to know her properly. He'd eventually settled for:

_Dear Molly_

_I'm so sorry that we didn't have an opportunity to talk again on Friday before you left Nant Glyn House. I think there has been an unfortunate misunderstanding between us and that you have been given the impression, wrongly by me, that I'm married. I appreciate now why you were so angry with me last week which was quite understandable in the circumstances and I really don't blame you. I do however, want to be honest and tell you that I'm divorced and have been for a few months now. I would dearly love the chance to meet with you again and try to put all of this behind us._

_Please, give it some thought and if you think you could give me another chance, call me on the number below. _

_Charles_

He had written his phone number at the bottom of the letter and crossed his fingers that she would call him.

"Don't worry, I'll take it over there in a minute for you and you can slope away without anyone knowing you've been here. " Jackie winked at him.

Another customer came into the coffee shop and Charles stood to one side as Jackie began her meet and greet routine. He felt a vibration in his jacket and then heard the ring tones of his phone kick in. He reached into his pocket and drew it out to see an unfamiliar number flashing on the screen. He answered with a degree of trepidation expecting it to be an unsolicited sales call.

"Charles, darling. It's Giselle. Sorry to disturb you but Ade gave me your number. How would you like to be my knight in shining armour?"

Charles listened and after a minute, nodded and replied, "Yes, of course, Giselle. I'll do that. See you later."

He put his phone away. Jackie had finished greeting her new customer and was looking at him expectantly.

"Was there anything else you wanted, apart from the letter delivery and possibly the purchase of a coffee?"

Charles grinned. He owed her that at least. "As a matter of fact, Jackie, you _could_ help me with something else. Do you know where I could hire a dinner jacket for tonight? My friend's ill and his girlfriend has just asked me to accompany her to a ball. They're putting me up and I think it would be good manners to oblige."

He hadn't really wanted to say 'yes' but Giselle, having bought the ticket at the end of last week for Ade believing he would be free to attend, was now uncomfortable about going alone as Ade had declared himself to be incapacitated by flu. Ade had suggested that Charles, as another former officer and gentleman, would be a very suitable alternative and wouldn't want to disappoint a lady. In agreeing to Giselle's request Charles already knew that Molly wouldn't be back in the office today or see his note. He had already accepted that he was going to have to go back to Bath tomorrow and simply wait out and hope that Molly would call him in the next few days. If she didn't, he might have to accept that he was history in her eyes and give up.

Jackie suggested a hire shop she knew about a mile away and after Charles had drunk his coffee, he had the satisfaction of seeing her pop across the road and drop the letter off to the receptionist at the CSF offices. When she returned she said

"I told them a customer had left it here by mistake and they didn't question it. It's sitting on Molly's desk, love. I'm sure she'll get it as soon as she's back in the office."

Charles made to leave and held out his hand to Jackie, "Thanks for everything. I really appreciate it."

She took his hand and to her surprise he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, "You've been a great help."

Jackie shook her head, blushing slightly, "Just be sure to leave that ball before midnight tonight or who knows what might happen."

X-X-X-X

Molly had never been to a charity ball before. She'd never been to anything anywhere before that had even been entitled a ball. She'd attended a few conferences. The annual CSF Christmas dinner and disco was usually held at a nice hotel in town which involved getting dressed-up but she'd never attended a black tie event or worn such an expensive dress. The thought of Kevin paying for her dress still embarrassed her. She'd almost blurted out "This aint Pretty Woman" when he said he was arranging for the bill to be sent directly to him and telling her she should go out and get something at lunch time. However, she absolutely loved the full-length, figure-hugging dress in emerald green she had chosen. She had been torn between playing safe with a simple black dress or going with her heart and choosing this dress with its striking pattern and design. With her hair piled up on top of her head and a strappy pair of high heels she'd felt like an actress on the red-carpet attending an awards ceremony when she walked into the ballroom with Kevin to see dozens of round tables decked out with candles and flowers. It felt like a magical new world. She found herself being greeted by all manner of friendly, attractive people she'd never met before but who seemed to know Kevin. Several of the ladies complimented her on her dress and she was glad she'd had the courage to choose it.

It was a vast room. The babble of conversation was loud and Molly strained to hear some of what was being said to her. She had to lean in close trying to catch the words of others all of whom seemed to be smiling and nodding and she quickly learned how to do likewise without getting too deeply involved in any of the conversations. Kevin had wandered off a little way and glanced over at her once or twice to check that she was alright and give her encouraging looks. When they settled down at their table she found herself seated next to Kevin on her right and another younger, very well-spoken man on her left who introduced himself as Dominic, a partner at a law firm specialising in employment law. Her heart sank, imagining them struggling through a long boring dinner in which he talked endlessly about employment tribunals or long-term sickness absence. To her relief she found he was both amusing and entertaining having a very active social life and a keen interest in films and music. He and Molly hit it off almost immediately and Kevin was pleased to see her laughing and enjoying herself.

Charles had enjoyed the dinner more than he had expected. The food had been good and the company entertaining. He was sitting with a group of Giselle's colleagues as the table had been purchased in support of the charity by her employer. Some of her colleagues had been surprised to see her turn up on the arm of a tall, dark, handsome man who was not her boyfriend. She was as stunning as ever in a full-length, halter-neck designer gown in sapphire blue that showed off her tall, willowy figure perfectly. Charles was conscious of admiring glances being thrown in her direction and a few stray comments within his hearing to the effect that he was a very lucky man. Giselle was her usual, kind and effusive self, chatting to everyone and taking a polite interest in the purpose of the event.

The final courses had been cleared away and Charles was steeling himself to sit through the speeches that were about to be held before the dancing commenced when he noticed an attractive, dark-haired young woman in a striking, green, patterned evening dress rise from her seat on the far side of the room and begin to weave her way through the tables, probably heading for the ladies' cloakroom. Something about her caught his attention. He glanced back in the direction of the table she had just left and with a start of recognition saw Kevin Jones sitting there. He whipped his head back towards the woman who had now reached the double doors to the function room and was about to leave. He realised at once that it was Molly. His breath caught in his throat and he was transfixed, watching and waiting for her to return.

The introductory speaker had just finished to polite applause when Charles saw Molly returning. She hastened her pace, keen to reach her seat before the second, keynote speaker rose to start his talk. As she drew level with Kevin she stumbled slightly on the hem of her dress and put a hand out to touch his shoulder and steady herself and Charles saw Kevin's arm reach around her waist in a further steadying action before Molly sat down again. All through the speeches he watched her and saw both Kevin and another younger man on her left leaning in towards her from time to time, their heads close together as they exchanged a few words. He saw Molly smiling and apparently amused by Kevin's comments and began to wonder exactly what sort of relationship existed between them. He was beginning to wonder if Molly had known all along that Kevin would be turning up last Friday at Nant Glyn House and had always planned to leave with him.

The speeches, followed by a raffle and an auction had carried on for the best part of an hour. Charles had watched Kevin bidding for and winning a Formula One racing experience at considerable cost and seen Molly's excited and wondering look as the bids got increasingly higher. He suspected that Kevin had become carried away and wondered if he was trying to impress Molly. She certainly looked worth impressing in that dress. He sat in frustrated silence, trying for Giselle's sake to look like he was enjoying himself but longing for the talking to be over so he could get out of his seat and make his way over to her.

It was almost eleven o'clock by the time the master of ceremonies announced that the band were about to commence and it was time to take to the dance floor. Charles was relieved but the lights went down almost immediately plunging the room into semi-darkness. It was packed with about five hundred people. He searched in the gloom but couldn't make Molly out. He assumed she must have left the ballroom and made his way out into the foyer but there was no sign of her. He spent most of the next hour looking for her although once or twice he was accosted by Giselle or one of her colleagues and dragged onto the dance floor. The band played a range of old standards, some rock'n'roll and dance band numbers and even a few up-tempo versions of pop songs. It wasn't quite to his taste and he'd never claimed to be a great dancer but his partners seemed happy enough for him to keep them company for a few minutes. All the time, however, he was looking for Molly and wondering if she was still here. He began to fear that she had left with Kevin after the fundraising had been concluded without ever knowing that he had been there.

The ball was almost at an end when the band struck up an old, slow tempo number, _'The nearness of you'. _It was in that moment that Charles finally caught sight of Molly standing alone on the other side of the room at the edge of the crowded dance floor as if waiting for someone and seized his chance, moving across the floor through the other dancers with one purpose in mind. She had her back to him as he approached.

"Could I have this dance?"

She turned at the sound of his voice and he saw a look of total astonishment in her eyes. He didn't wait for an answer but grasping her hand in the darkness, steered her onto the floor and pulled her into his arms. She was too stunned to offer any resistance. He couldn't believe that he was actually with her again, his arms around her waist, feeling the curves of her body in the figure-hugging dress as she was pressed in close to him. Her hair brushed his cheek and the scent he recalled from that night in woods brought back a rush of emotions. He couldn't help himself and whispered in her ear,

"I've missed you Molly. I'm so sorry about before. You don't know the truth about me."

They were swaying gently to the music, her hands lightly placed on his shoulders as if she was undecided about being there but unwilling to cause a scene.

"I'm not married, Molly."

She pulled her head back and looked at him. Her eyes searching his face and he could tell she was weighing up the truth of his words. She looked into his eyes, held his gaze and they stopped moving. When she finally leaned back in to him her body becoming soft and compliant and finally at ease in his embrace, he sighed in relief. He leaned his head in closer to hers and his lips brushed against her hair as the final bars of the song played out. He felt as if the world was finally tilting back in his direction.

The song ended. The lights came up, harsh and bright and Molly suddenly aware of her surroundings stepped back from Charles to stand a respectful distance away, conscious of others in the room. In the space of a few minutes she had ridden the roller-coaster of emotions from shock at the sight of Charles standing next to her and leading her onto the dance floor to sheer delight at the feel of his arms around her and relief that somehow she had been wrong about him. She had looked into his eyes and believed him. He wasn't lying about being married. She realised that she could have been wrong. She had made assumptions. He had never told her that he had a wife. In the harsh bright light they gazed at each other and she wondered for a few seconds what the next step would be. She ought to go and find Kevin and was about to say something to Charles when a tall, beautiful, black-haired girl in a stunning designer gown sashayed across the dance floor towards him,

"Charles, darling. There you are. I've been looking for you everywhere."

She placed a hand on his shoulder and leaning across, kissed him on the cheek,

"I think we ought to go home, sweetie. I'm exhausted and I need my beauty sleep. I don't want to give you a fright in the morning." Her smile at him was pure enchantment and Molly couldn't imagine her ever having frightened anyone in her life.

The woman reached out for his hand and grasped it ready to lead him away.

Molly watched this scene play out in silence. She hadn't even asked herself why Charles was there but it didn't take her more than a few seconds to realise he wasn't alone and he was about to go home with this beautiful creature who was expecting him to still be with her in the morning. The pain of disappointment coursed through her swiftly followed by anger. She threw him a look of pure, exasperated disbelief and turned without a word, heading towards Kevin whom she could see in the distance.

Charles hesitated watching her walk away whilst Giselle, carried on, oblivious to what was happening and wittering in a languid, sleepy voice. He interrupted.

"Giselle, I just need a word with a friend." He loosened his hand and started to follow but Molly was already some distance ahead of him. He saw that she had reached Kevin and they were both heading out of the ballroom. There was a throng of people outside, blocking the doorway. He struggled to find his way through and when he did finally clear them and get as far as the hotel lobby he could see no one. He went through the glass revolving doors and stood on the steps but they had disappeared. They must have left in a hurry. He felt thwarted and frustrated. Only a few minutes ago he had been so close to her but a few ill-timed and idle words from Giselle and he was standing here alone again. When was he ever going to straighten things out with this girl? He heard a clock in the distance strike the half hour and glanced at his watch. Twelve thirty. Jackie's prophetic words were ringing in his ears.

**_A/N 'The Nearness of You' is a favourite old song written in 1938 by Hoagy Carmichael and Ned Washington and first covered by Glenn Miller but it's the Norah Jones version that I had in mind for the above scene._**


	10. Chapter 10

**_This is the penultimate chapter of 'Misunderstood'. Thank you all for your kind reviews, comments and interest in the plot which I really appreciate. It has made writing this story a lot of fun!_**

**Chapter Ten**

Phillip Walters had been talking for twenty minutes about the company budgets but Molly, sitting in the corner of the Board Room to observe, had switched off. Kevin had suggested that she attend one of his weekly Senior Team meetings to get a feel for the type of matters under discussion and to meet everyone. There was nothing contentious or confidential on the agenda and he thought she would find it useful experience although she wouldn't be expected to attend on a regular basis. She was glad of the last fact because she was bored. A part of her, however, realised that it wouldn't really have mattered what was on the agenda today; her heart wasn't really in it. If she was honest with herself she was still standing on the dance floor last night watching a beautiful, model-like woman drape herself over Charles and talk about taking him home to bed whilst all her fledgling hopes tumbled through an abyss that had opened up in the floor.

Last night she had been shocked and angered at Charles' duplicity. The anger had stayed with her for a couple of hours and carried her through the taxi ride home with Kevin and conversations about the following day's activities. She had managed to switch off her mind. It was only later when she finally got home and was alone that she had given in to the tears of hurt and disappointment. Just for a few minutes last night, when Charles had told her she was mistaken, that he wasn't married and they had been dancing so closely together, she had dared to hope that this could be the start of something really wonderful and all the feelings of attraction she had suppressed began to fight their way to the surface. At that moment she would have made her excuses to Kevin and gone anywhere to be alone with him. Then the woman had appeared. Molly had seen the startled look of annoyance on Charles' face and all her previous distrust returned. She'd rather be alone that be made a fool of by anyone else.

"Molly?"

Kevin's voice broke into her thoughts. She realised he was looking directly at her and around him the other members of the team were shuffling papers. It looked as if the meeting was over.

"Sorry, Kevin."

He smiled, "Do you think you could get some copies of Philips's report run off?"

She nodded, took the document from him and left the room. When she returned to his office fifteen minutes later and placed the papers on his desk he looked up at her and held her gaze for a few seconds before saying,

"You don't seem quite yourself today."

There was no denying it. She shrugged and said, "Just a bit tired, I suppose from last night."

She hadn't got home until after one o'clock. She and Kevin had been fortunate to miss the rush at the end of the ball and find a taxi directly outside the entrance of the hotel which had whisked them away before others had made it half-way across the lobby. When she had got home she'd been too distracted for at least an hour by thoughts of what had happened and her unhappiness to even go to bed and when she had finally forced herself to turn off the light, sleep had evaded her for at least half an hour. When it did arrive it had been shallow and fitful with dreams that featured Charles and the black-haired woman in the blue dress. She was definitely tired, both physically and emotionally.

Kevin took this reference to tiredness on board but replied, "I wondered if you were having second thoughts about whether to take this job."

"Oh, no, I'm still really interested in working with you, I just..." she trailed off wondering what to say.

"Found Philip's report a bit long-winded?" he supplied with a smile.

"Yeah," she admitted with a grimace.

"That's his style, Molly, but he's a good man and I trust him. My Personal Assistant is going to have to deal with a lot of different personalities. It's no different than dealing with clients and candidates except these people are part of my Senior Team and let's face it we're all different."

He sat back in his chair clearly thinking about something. She had seen him do this a number of times this week and knew that she was only required to remain silent.

"Why don't you go back to the branch this afternoon and work out the rest of the week there. I expect Mike's not too pleased at me requisitioning you this week without so much as a 'by your leave'. It'll give you a bit of contrast and you can think about whether you want to spend so much time working with me." He raised his eyebrows at her. She thought he meant it to be humorous but she didn't feel like laughing and merely smiled.

"I'll talk to you on Friday, Molly, and you can let me know what you think."

She nodded her agreement. She was fairly sure that she would be able to make a decision by Friday.

X-X-X-X

If Charles had thought the train journey back to Bath after his encounter with Molly three months ago was bad, then this was far worse. He couldn't believe how events had turned out last night. To finally have her in his arms and feel that everything had been resolved and then to find himself alone again had been devastating. He'd almost been uncivil to Giselle, such was his annoyance at her unconscious scuppering of his hopes. It wasn't her fault but he'd been quiet on the way home and she'd asked him with genuine concern if he thought he was coming down with a cold. He wished he could sort his problems out with a lemsip.

He shouldn't have been surprised to see Molly react that way last night, with such speed and decisiveness. There was nothing meek, mild or accepting about her. She wasn't going to stand by and let some other woman fawn over him, although, if she could just have curbed her instincts and stood still for a minute longer, he could have explained and introduced Giselle. He clenched his fist in annoyance as he looked out of the train window but shaking his head realised that it was Molly's feisty, passion that appealed to him so much. She was so different to Rebecca. Once or twice he'd wondered if he was just trying to obliterate Rebecca's memory by falling for someone so diametrically opposed to her although he knew it was entirely possible that the reason his marriage to Rebecca had failed was because she was simply wrong for him and he had needed someone like Molly all along.

He hadn't wanted to leave in the morning but he had no option. He had to get back to Bath, collect his car and then drive back to Nant Glyn House as soon as possible. There were delegates arriving for a two day course on Thursday morning and from the look of Ade, white-faced, unshaven and having lost his voice altogether, he wasn't going to be well enough to return which would leave Bing short-handed. Charles knew that they would need to make plans to handle the situation. Bing would probably draft in one of the other staff on site to help supervise but not everyone was qualified for all the activities.

Giselle had promised to return Charles' hire suit for him. He had hoped there would be time to make another excursion into that part of town in the vague hope that he might get to see Molly but time wouldn't permit. There remained nothing more to do than make his way to Paddington and return to Bath. As he stood on the concourse waiting for the platform to be announced he tried making one final call to Molly's branch office. It was worth another try. If he could speak to her and explain what had happened they might be able to resolve the situation, although he didn't hold out a lot of hope that Molly would believe him, certainly not immediately. As much as he had tried to convince himself that Molly would see sense and realise her mistake eventually, he had been forced to finally admit to himself that the sight of a beautiful woman clinging onto him and talking about what her face would look like in the morning was quite damning evidence to someone who believed they were involved. Sasha answered the phone, as she had done the last two days, and once again reported that Molly wasn't in the office today. This time he ventured to ask if she would be returning that week and Sasha gave the vague opinion that she hadn't heard that she wouldn't be there. He thanked her and rang off.

As he sat on the train speeding its way westwards with each mile taking him further away from Molly, Charles knew that his only hope was that she would read the letter and decide to call him.

X-X-X-X-X

Walking back into the office on Wednesday afternoon after an absence of two and a half days, Molly received a chorus of humorous comments from her colleagues such as_, 'come to see how the other half live, have we?'_ and_ 'are we good enough for you now?'. _She had expected no less from them and took it in good part referring to them all as 'riff-raff' before offering to make them a cup of tea.

As Molly handed Kate her mug, Kate whispered to her, "Did you like working with Kevin?"

Molly shrugged and keeping her voice down replied, "There were good and bad points, like all jobs. Kevin's a good bloke. I like him. There's no nonsense about him but some of the stuff is a bit dull. Well, I suppose it's just 'cos I don't understand it all yet. He wants me to think about it and let him know on Friday."

"I'll miss you Molly." Kate's smile was genuine.

"I haven't said yes, yet," Molly replied.

"But you will, won't you?"

Molly didn't answer but she knew there was a strong likelihood that Kate was right.

"Ah, the wanderer returns." Mike strolled over to her and Molly got the impression that he hadn't been enamoured with her absence. She knew that Kevin had called him on Monday but it had been a bit unfair of him to simply drag her out of the office without warning and leave others to pick up her work.

"Sorry about being away, Mike." She gave him an apologetic smile. "I'll get on with my stuff right away." She glanced at her desk there was a pile of opened mail, mostly CV's and correspondence. Her quiet tone of voice and apology won him round. He'd always liked Molly and she'd learned the best way to handle him and take the wind out of his sails.

"OK, good idea. If you need to get up to speed on anything, just let me know," Mike replied

He went back to his desk and Molly moved to sit down behind hers. She looked at the pile of letters sitting squarely in the centre of her desk and shoved them to one side. Instead she logged onto the CSF system and began to work her way through her emails. It was quite disconcerting how many arrived in the course of a few days from candidates, clients and colleagues and it took her a couple of hours to clear the most urgent enquiries as well as take some incoming calls. It was after half past four before she finally turned to the letters and began to sift them. She had almost reached the bottom of the pile when she came across a small, sealed white envelope with the words _'Molly Dawes – Private and Confidential'_ written in curling handwriting on the outside. She took her letter opener and ripped the top edge open. Inside was a single sheet of paper on which there was a handwritten note. She glanced at the bottom and saw the name _'Charles'._ Her heart seemed to be thumping hard in her chest as she read the words he had written.

She finished reading and exhaled loudly, slapping the note down on the desk in front of her in annoyance. There was nothing new in this note. She already knew that he wasn't married. She actually believed him on that score but she had to stop herself exclaiming out loud, "How dare he?" when she saw he had asked her to give him another chance. By the looks of things last night he'd hardly sat around moping and waiting for her. He clearly thought it was alright to pass his time entertaining other women. She saw he had written his phone number at the bottom of the note and for a moment fantasised about calling him and giving him a piece of her mind, dreaming up a few choice expressions she could use but she knew that she wouldn't have the guts to go that far. She read the note one more time. The tone of the letter was polite and respectful, he wasn't trying to impress her but she reasoned that he was well-educated and knew exactly how to word a letter to sound humble. The fact of the matter was that she simply didn't trust him after last night no matter how polite his letter sounded. She took a deep breath and in one final gesture of riddance screwed up the letter and tossed it into the waste paper bin.

X-X-X-X

"Hello, Molly. Usual is it?" Jackie enquired as Molly approached the counter in the coffee shop on Thursday morning. She turned away and started to get the take-out coffee ready for her. "Haven't seen you for a while. Have you been away on holiday?"

"No. Nothing that nice, I'm afraid," Molly called out. "I was away on a course and I've been working at Head Office for a few days this week."

"Well they say a change is as good as a rest, don't they." Jackie handed the coffee to Molly, "Personally, I'd rather have the rest, but that's just me."

Molly reached into her bag and got out her purse to pay.

"Oh, I nearly forgot," Jackie exclaimed. "Did you get your letter?"

Molly looked up in surprise a frown on her face. "What d'you mean?"

"The letter your friend left on Tuesday. Well, I say 'left' he actually asked _me_ to drop it in to your office. Sasha put it on your desk."

Molly realised what Jackie was talking about now and wasn't sure for a moment how to reply. She shrugged in a non-committal gesture and hoped Jackie would let things drop.

"Nice chap, very polite and friendly. Nice looking too. We had a bit of a chat. I think he's keen on you." Molly was trying to imagine Charles and Jackie having a 'chat' and almost snorted with laughter. In the office they called her 'Wacky Jackie' because she did like to go off on a tangent but nonetheless they all liked her. She was always cheerful and friendly whenever they called in and she made a good coffee. Nevertheless, Molly couldn't resist saying something,

"So he was chatty was he?"

"Well he was here for at least two hours on Monday and then he came back on Tuesday when he gave me the note for you. I even had to tell him where to go and hire a dinner suit for some charity thing he had to go to. I don't think he'd planned it as it was all very last minute. He had a call from some girlfriend of a friend of his who needed him to accompany her. I don't think the poor love was very keen but he said his friends were putting him up and he felt he ought to oblige. He was just that sort of chap, if you know what I mean."

"Pardon?" The last part of Jackie's tale had almost caused Molly to drop her change all over the floor. "What did you say about a girlfriend?"

Jackie shook her head with a look of mock exasperation, "Not _his _girlfriend, love. His friend's girlfriend. She asked him to go with her because she didn't want to go on her own."

Molly was frozen to the spot. Her blood pressure has suddenly dropped with the shock realisation that the gorgeous, black-haired woman at the ball wasn't 'with' Charles at all. She was a friend and he was simply staying with her.

"You alright, Molly? You've gone a bit pale."

She nodded automatically, "I've got to go, Jackie. Thanks."

She turned without another word and left. With only a cursory glance at the traffic she launched herself off the pavement. She heard a car driver brake sharply and a long blast of the car horn directed in anger at her kamikaze attitude to road crossing. She turned and almost shouted 'fuck off' at the driver before realising that he had a point. She waved her hand in a vague gesture of apology and managed to get to the other side of the road without incident.

"Morning Molly, " Sasha called out as Molly pushed open the office door with such force and haste that she caused it to bang against the wall.

"Morning." It was more of a mutter than a greeting. She rushed across to her desk and pulled out the waste paper bin from underneath. It had been emptied and a fresh plastic bag placed inside. She held the bin up close to her face staring into the bottom as if the power of thought could conjure up Charles' letter that she had screwed up and thrown away yesterday.

"What's up, Molly?" Kate appeared from the kitchen at the back of the office with a mug of tea in her hand, "You look like you're going to be sick."

Molly, realising how ridiculous she looked, put down the bin and turned to Kate,

"Where does the cleaner put the rubbish when she empties the bins?"

Kate stared at her nonplussed, "Out the back in the skip, I suppose. Why are you interested?"

Molly ignored her and moved to the back of the office, pushed down the bar and opened the fire exit door at the rear to reveal a small yard containing a rubbish skip and a couple of broken swivel chairs from the office.

The skip was quite large and she couldn't lift the lid or see into it. She looked around and saw a couple of wooden pallets in the corner waiting for collection. She carried them over and piled them precariously on top of each other to make a step. Standing on top she was able to lift up the lid and peer into the bottom. The skip was empty.

Sasha looked out into the yard, curious to see what Molly was doing.

"The refuse lorry came round first thing this morning. That should be empty."

Molly dropped the lid and climbed down from the pallets with a heavy heart. The letter with Charles' phone number was probably half-way to a municipal dump by now. There wasn't a hope in hell of finding it. She went back into the office and shut the door behind her. Kate was standing there with a confused look on her face.

"Why the sudden interest in waste management, Molly?"

"I lost something, that's all," Molly replied wandering back to her desk and sitting down.

"It wasn't anything valuable, I hope?" Kate called out to her.

Molly shook her head, "Probably not."

It was an understatement. She was utterly disconsolate at the knowledge that not only had she been wrong again about Charles and done him a great disservice in thinking so badly of him but she'd messed up the best chance of putting everything right. She heaved a sigh of disappointment placed her hands in her head and wondered what else could go wrong for her.

X-X-X-X

Charles gritted his teeth, took a deep breath and fixed a smile on his face as he turned back to his group. Trying to explain the rudiments of navigation was beginning to feel like wading through treacle. No matter how many times he went through the procedure for calculating the grid reference of features on a map or taking a bearing between two points someone looked blank and failed to understand. It wasn't the first time he'd been in this position either in the army or in this job but it was the first time he'd ever had so little patience with the person struggling to absorb the information and he was fighting his inclinations in order to remain friendly and professional.

Since his return yesterday he had been finding it difficult to maintain his focus. He had hoped that getting stuck-in with another group would help to take his mind off the last few frustrating days but if anything, that brief moment with Molly at the ball had only intensified his feelings. He was sure she felt the same for him but stupid barriers kept appearing between them each more frustrating than the last. It wasn't helping today to be teaching navigation and orienteering in preparation for another surprise night exercise. The last thing he wanted was to be reminded of those moments in the woods last week. His mind was really two hundred miles away hoping that she would read his note and call him. He'd been toying with the idea of calling the branch again but he'd been pretty busy from first thing, particularly as he was partly covering for Ade's absence. He was also unsure what to do. He didn't want to make a nuisance of himself particularly if she was still annoyed. As much as he was desperate to straighten things out he wondered whether he should back off for a few days before trying to call her again. She might view everything more favourably when she'd had a few days to consider. He knew he was clutching at straws but he really felt quite helpless stuck here so far from London.

He ran through the procedure for taking a bearing again, trying to speak slowly and break the information down as much as was humanly possible without sounding patronising. This time it seemed to work and the group was able to move forward with some simple navigation outside. After lunch they would be undertaking the orienteering course. He didn't like to think about the problems that was likely to cause.

At lunchtime he found Bing sitting in the office, feet up on the desk, drinking a cup of tea and eating a sandwich.

"Had a good morning?" Bing enquired.

Charles sank into one of the chairs with a heavy thud.

"Shit!"

He uttered the single-worded verdict on the morning's activities with such vehemence that Bing actually laughed.

"Oh my God, Charles, it's a long time since I've felt that bad about a group. What have they done?"

Charles proceeded to outline the difficulties he had faced that morning and Bing could only take pity.

"To be fair to them, Charles, I don't think they're quite the same calibre as the groups we had last week. I mean, even your friend Kate Allen, who let's face it seemed to be more interested in the contents of her designer handbag than a Bergen, could get her head around a map and compass."

Charles was tempted to put Bing right about Kate, feeling that his silence on the truth of the matter was rather ungallant but he was afraid that it would only lead him into other areas he didn't want to discuss. He settled for saying, "Well, that's probably a bit of an exaggeration. She's an intelligent woman and I've always respected her capabilities."

Bing snorted with laughter,

"If I wasn't a happily married man I'm sure I'd be respecting her capabilities too, Charles."

Charles shook his head. "That's all history, now." Hoping he wouldn't be struck down for lying and that would be an end to the matter.

Bing finished his sandwich and took his feet off the desk. He stood up to leave and then said,

"Oh, if I don't ask you this I'll be in serious trouble with the powers that be. Are you free on Sunday? We'd like to invite you for lunch."

Charles had no plans beyond getting to the end of today. At the moment he was simply trying to take one day at a time.

He nodded. "Yes, thank you."

"Jolly good. I'll let Sarah know. She'll be delighted." Bing didn't add that she'd be delighted at having an opportunity to put her matchmaking plans into action.

X-X-X-X

It had been a very long morning. Molly had struggled to keep her thoughts on her job. In fact she felt that it had been a very long week. It seemed like an age had passed since she had left Nant Glyn House last Friday feeling annoyed and angry with Charles and dreading returning to all her problems in London. However, so much had changed in such a short space of time. She was on the verge of making a huge step forward in her career if she took the opportunity Kevin was offering her and thanks to his kindness and intervention her financial worries had been laid to rest. For a very short time she had even thought that her love life was finally turning in her favour until she had managed to mess things up; twice.

The loss of Charles' phone number seemed like an omen to her. Every part of their relationship had been swathed in trouble and misunderstanding from the moment they had met until this last occasion at the ball. She wasn't sure whether she believed in fate but she felt as if something was trying to tell her to simply leave well alone. After losing Charles' number she had thought about calling Nant Glyn House. She had even got as far as dialling the number but the moment she had heard Bing answer the phone she had been thrown into a panic, unable to think of what to say or how to explain why she needed to talk to Charles. If she had got through to him how would she have explained not having his number? She had put the phone down without speaking and felt like smacking herself for being so stupid.

Then she had remembered what Jackie had said about Charles hiring a dinner jacket. Searching on the internet she found that there was only one shop within about a mile of here that hired out formal wear. She had called them and asked if they could give her Charles' contact number but they had predictably refused to disclose confidential information about a customer. She hadn't seriously expected anyone to tell her but wondered if someone might let something slip. She realised she could write just as he had done and try to put her explanation on paper but it would take her time. She didn't have the way with words that he did. She wondered after Tuesday night whether he would even want to hear from her. After all, he hadn't tried to call her.

In addition to this, Kevin was waiting for an answer about the job. He had said he'd contact her today to discuss the matter and although part of her wanted to stay here as part of Mike and Kate's team she knew that it was a chance she might not get offered again. She just didn't know why she felt so down about it. She ought to have been jumping for joy but something was preventing her from enjoying her success.

It was Friday and Mike had decided to take the team out for some lunch. He liked to do that from time to time to say thank you and also to use the occasion for 'team bonding'. Today however, Molly had volunteered to stay in the office and man the phones. She hadn't felt much like socialising and pointed out that the others had been covering for her for half the week and she ought to return the favour. It was quiet in the office. The phone only rang twice and she took a couple of non-urgent messages. She should have been catching up with paperwork but she was lost in thought when she heard the office door open and a familiar voice say,

"Did someone call 'abandon ship' or something?"

She looked up to see Kevin walking into the office. He was wearing a sharp suit, expensive aftershave and a broad smile.

"Well, I'm glad to see you Molly, at least, especially as you're the reason I'm here."

She nodded at the other empty desks. "They're having a team bonding lunch."

"Good. Why didn't you go?"

She shrugged, "I volunteered to man the office, you know. My turn and all that."

Kevin pulled a face, "Nothing to do with not being part of the team any more then."

Molly sighed, "You'd like my decision about the job then."

"Yes, " he replied. "Although, I wanted a chat with Mike, as well. If he's going to be back soon, I'll wait for him."

He looked at her seriously, "So, what's the decision, Molly?"

There was silence for a few moments before she replied, "I'd like to accept, Kevin." He smiled and held out his hand to her. She took it expecting him to shake hands with her in a formal gesture of welcome but he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

"Welcome to your future, Molly Dawes."

They talked about general matters whilst waiting for the others to return and Kevin outlined the substantial increase in salary she would receive in her new job and a few other associated benefits. She was pleasantly surprised and began to think about finding herself a flat of her own that she could afford once she'd repaid Kevin the money she owed him. She was a little lost in these thoughts when Kevin surprised her by saying in a tentative voice,

"Seeing as you're now my Personal Assistant would it be an imposition for me to ask a personal favour from you?"

Molly wondered what was about to follow but keen to be amenable she said, "No."

"I wondered if you'd be able to accompany me to a little charity dinner tomorrow night. It's a private matter rather than anything to do with CSF and you'd be fully entitled to say 'no'. It's just that it's out of town."

Molly thought of all the favours Kevin had done her this last week and felt it would be completely wrong of her to refuse the first time he asked her to do something for him.

"Of course," she replied.

He told her the name of the hotel and arranged to pick her up from her flat at six thirty saying it would probably take an hour to drive there. He glanced at his watch. It had gone two o'clock and there was still no sign of Mike or the rest of the team.

"I'm parched, Molly. Any chance of a cuppa, d'you think?"

She went out to the kitchen at the back of the office and put the kettle on. It was noisy when it heated water and the volume of sound increased as the water started to heat up towards boiling point. Molly remembered the saying about a watched kettle never boiling and stepped out to ask Kevin how he liked his tea. He had his back to her and was on his phone. His voice was always quite loud and clear even when he was trying to keep the volume down as he was at this moment. With the pitch of the kettle rising he didn't hear Molly moving across the carpet towards him but she very clearly heard him say,

"That's right, one double room, two people for tomorrow night. The name's Kevin Jones."


	11. Chapter 11

**_Hold on to your hats! It's the final chapter and a bit of a long one. Thanks again to everyone for your support, reviews, comments and interest. It has been really enjoyable writing this story and I hope you won't be disappointed by the conclusion. Thanks for reading._**

**Chapter Eleven**

Kate heard Molly sigh loudly for about the twentieth time that afternoon and could stand it no longer. She got up and wandered over to her desk pretending that she needed to drop some papers into her tray and lowering her voice to a whisper said, "What's wrong with you this afternoon? Anyone would think you're sad about leaving the rest of us."

After talking to Mike on his return from lunch, Kevin had announced to everyone present that Molly would be joining him at Head Office from Monday as his Personal Assistant. At the time Kate had thought that Molly looked less than ecstatic about her fabulous new job, in fact, the only person who seemed really happy about Molly leaving was Sasha who had been promoted to Consultant to replace Molly and was almost bouncing off the walls with excitement.

Molly looked up at Kate thinking about the phone conversation she had overheard at lunchtime between Kevin and the hotel and had to force herself not to sigh again. After hearing Kevin's conversation she had crept back into the kitchen torn between marching straight out, confronting him and demanding to know what on earth he thought he was planning and wondering whether to make a sudden excuse, remembering something that she'd forgotten she was doing on Saturday night. She waited for the kettle to boil, made the tea and then took the mug through to him.

As she handed over the mug of tea she said, "This dinner tomorrow night, Kevin, what's it in aid of?"

He smiled at her. "A charity I've supported privately for years. It's a good cause and there are some nice people involved with it. It's very good of you to help me out. I always feel like a spare part at these sorts of dinners. Lots of married couples, you know." She nodded although in truth she didn't really understand why he would feel particularly awkward on this occasion. At that moment the office door opened and Mike and the rest of the team returned. Kevin was at once business-like again, spending some time with Mike and then talking with Sasha as well. By the time he made the announcement to everyone it was almost three o'clock. He said he needed to get back to Head Office before the end of the day and was in a hurry to leave. He lowered his voice, said, "See you tomorrow, Molly" and was gone.

She hadn't had a chance to say anything more. She might be wrong, of course. Her Nan had always been telling the Dawes kids off for eavesdropping and she remembered a boring play they studied at school where a bloke hiding behind a curtain was stabbed for eavesdropping on a conversation. A bit dramatic she thought, but probably a lesson that bad things happened to those who listen in to other people's conversations. She tried to forget about it and just focus on clearing the backlog of work on her desk but there was no doubt that the uncertainty had taken the shine off of what should have been a special day for her.

Looking up at Kate now and thinking about her question, Molly pulled a face and said, "I think I am wishing I was staying here, now."

"Why?" Kate said genuinely wondering what had changed her mind. Her new job was a brilliant opportunity for her and she knew she would do well.

Molly's voice dropped to a whisper, "I can't talk about it here."

"Let's go for a drink after we finish," Kate suggested. "It's Friday night for goodness sake. Let's have a drink or two and celebrate." She tried to instil a bit of cheerfulness into the suggestion but she could tell that Molly was still down.

"What d'you say, then?"

Molly pulled a face and forgetting herself sighed again. "OK, you win. Just one drink."

X-X-X-X

Kate poured the last drop of red wine from the bottle into Molly's glass. She gazed at Molly and in a voice, relaxed by alcohol said, "Come on. Spill, then."

Molly looking and sounding equally languid shook her head. "Where do you want me to begin? Kevin, Wales or the stuff before that?"

Kate pricked up her ears. They were sitting in a wine bar a few doors down from the office and the one drink after work to which Molly had agreed had inevitably turned into half a bottle of red wine each.

"What d'you mean, Wales?" Kate asked. A memory of Molly's uncharacteristic tears after her return from the night exercise and the concerned look on Charles' face when Kate had seen him in the hall later came to mind.

"Did something happen when you were on the course?" She took a stab in the dark. "Something between you and the gorgeous Charles?"

Molly stared at her and the horrified look on her face was enough to convince Kate she was right. She gasped and her mouth dropped open.

"It did, didn't it?" She could hardly contain her excitement. "Come on, you can't leave it at that. Tell me what happened."

Molly knew she would wheedle it out of her and there was no going back now.

"I met him once before, here in London. It was just a coincidence but it all got a bit messy and confused. It don't really matter now, though, I've fucked it up good and proper."

Kate was all agog. She had suspected something in Wales but this was much more than she had anticipated. Just how much had Molly been keeping to herself and for how long?

"I think this calls for another bottle, really, Molly. They do say confession is good for the soul and I really think you ought to tell me _everything_."

Kate got to her feet and made her way to the bar only lightly knocking into one person on the way and Molly wondered whether she should have stuck to that one drink she had promised herself and kept her mouth shut.

Two hours later, when Kate's husband, Phil, turned up at the wine bar to collect Kate who had called him to say she really didn't think she could manage the underground tonight, it was obvious that she'd had too much to drink and needed to go and lie down. After taking one look at Molly, Phil offered to drop her at home too, even though it was well out of his way. Molly refused and in the end he hailed her a taxi and made sure she had her keys ready to get into her flat and money to pay the driver.

As they stood on the pavement outside the wine bar with the taxi waiting, Kate hugged Molly.

"I'm really, really going to miss you." Her words were a bit slurred.

"I'll miss you too, Kate. You've been a great friend." Molly felt quite emotional. Phil and the taxi driver exchanged looks which clearly said 'bloody drunken women'.

"I hope you're gonna behave yourself in my cab, love. I'm not clearing up after you," the taxi driver called out.

Molly shot him an offended look and tried to summon up some dignity. "I've never done that in my life and I aint starting now."

"You'd better go, Molly. He won't wait forever,"Phil told her. Molly turned to climb into the taxi but Kate suddenly remembering something rushed back and grabbed her by the arm. Molly looked back at her.

"Don't do anything stupid, Molly, promise me," she entreated.

Molly looked at her realising her eyes were not completely focused and she felt wobbly. "Problem is, Kate," she replied. "I've always been stupid, can't help it." She shrugged and half sat, half fell into the back of the cab. Phil leaned in and made sure she was fastened with a seat belt before shutting the door. The cab drove away and Kate turning to her husband and reaching for his arm to support her said with surprise, "I think I'm drunk."

X-X-X-X

The sunlight shining through a crack in the bedroom curtains fell across Kate's face. She put a weary hand up to shade herself and opening her eyes a little bit felt pain like a knife course through her forehead.

"Argh!" she grimaced and reaching out for Phil found the bed empty.

She struggled to roll onto her side and risked a peek at the clock on the bedside table. It was eleven thirty and Phil must have risen several hours ago.

"I'm never drinking again," she croaked aloud rolling onto her back and trying to focus on the ceiling. The journey back from the wine bar was a total blur to her. Phil had bundled her into the car and she must have fallen asleep. She remembered getting back to the house and him pushing her up the stairs and helping her get undressed. There had been quite a bit of silly giggling from her before she flopped onto the bed and then nothing until waking up a moment ago.

She dragged her mind back to the wine bar trying to recall events. She'd been there with Molly. They'd drunk a bottle between them and she'd been tipsy but not too bad. Then she'd decided to get another bottle and that had been her undoing. She'd bought it because Molly had promised to tell all about what had happened in Wales.

She clasped her hand to her mouth. Oh God. She remembered now, Molly had told her all about that first encounter with Charles when she'd met him at the hotel and the time he'd kissed her in the woods and then all the misunderstandings that had got in the way. She remembered now how upset Molly had been. She'd been blaming herself for misunderstanding everything, throwing his letter away and calling herself a total 'fuck-up'. Kate had been trying to convince her to call Charles at Nant Glyn House but Molly said it was too late and he wouldn't want to know. She knew how stubborn Molly could be. She'd got it into her head that it was really all her fault and she'd have to lump it no matter how unhappy she was.

Kate lay in bed, her head thumping and thought about Charles. The man was absolutely gorgeous and by the sounds of it very keen on Molly. If Kate was in her shoes she certainly wouldn't be sitting at home moping and Molly must be out of her mind to say she couldn't call him and he probably wouldn't want to know.

The sun moved round and Kate rolled onto her side to avoid its glare. As she did so, she remembered with a start her final words to Molly, "Don't do anything stupid." She'd been talking about Kevin then. Molly had told her about the overheard conversation. That was one of the reasons she was so down yesterday. She was worried that Kevin had ulterior motives for inviting her to that dinner tonight and she hadn't got the guts to turn him down now that she'd accepted this new job and after he'd been so helpful and kind to her. Kate had had a few choice words to say about the money Kevin had lavished on her, buying her dresses and paying off the rent on her flat. It wasn't normal behaviour. Molly knew this too but it was as if she couldn't bring herself to acknowledge it. Kate was certain that if she got herself involved with her boss like that she was going to be making a huge mistake. She had tried to tell Molly but it was as if Molly thought she deserved bad luck. She was being so hard on herself. It was ridiculous and now in the soberness of the day, Kate felt anger on her friend's behalf. There must be some way of stopping her from carrying on with this course of action that could only lead to more trouble.

Then the idea came to her. In spite of the pain in her head and the waves of nausea that assailed her, she raised herself from the bed, swung her legs out onto the floor and somewhat unsteadily began to search around the bedroom looking for her handbag. She eventually located it under the bed and drew out her phone. She searched though her contacts until she found the one she needed and dialled the number.

X-X-X-X

"Charles! You're back!" Bing called him from the other side of the stable yard, "Did you have a good walk?" He approached him at a march, crossing the yard in little more than a few seconds.

"Had to cut it short, actually. The leg's playing up again," Charles called. "The weather was threatening to turn in anyway, so it's probably just as well."

Some of that was true. It was a fairly overcast day and the cloud base had descended to fifteen hundred feet meaning much of the walking was in damp, fog-like conditions with poor visibility. However, Charles had also found it hard to motivate himself today. He'd been late leaving, not getting away until ten o'clock that morning and had meant to climb Snowdon. Before his injury he would have done it the hard way via the Snowdon Horseshoe, departing from Pen-y-pass, enjoying the challenge of the scrambling and the ridge walk along Crib Goch before reaching the summit and descending the other side of the horseshoe via Y Lliwedd but even in summer in good conditions that route was too much for him now. He had to plump for the simpler and shorter pyg track.

It was a weekend in summer and the mountain was busy. He hadn't enjoyed making his way up with the relative hordes of other walkers with varying degrees of experience. It was too much of a tourist haunt for him to enjoy and he wished he had gone further south and climbed Cnicht. It would have been a fairly solitary walk and it was solitude that he needed, a good long walk in fresh, clean air to help him clear his mind and blow away the cobwebs that had been gathering for over a week, ever since Molly Dawes had disappeared down the drive of Nant Glyn House in Kevin Jones Jaguar. The walk today had been useless and he'd given up before he reached the summit and turned back.

He reached into the boot of his car to take out his back pack and dirty boots ready for cleaning. He saw Bing hesitate and then reach into his trouser pocket to pull out a piece of paper.

"There was a phone call at the house for you while you were out." He held out the paper to Charles, "Kate Allen." He raised his eyebrows and Charles could see him trying to suppress a smile. "She called at about midday, left her number and asked if you could call her." A thought crossed Charles mind.

"You're sure it was her?"

"Oh yes," Bing confirmed. "She left quite an impression the other week. It was definitely her. I won't forget her in a hurry." He dangled the paper in front of Charles in a teasing gesture. "And it seems she hasn't forgotten you either."

Charles took the paper from him. He had absolutely no idea why Kate would be contacting him but he was intrigued. "Thanks for that. I'll call her when I get a minute. I don't expect it's anything to get excited about. "Charles tried to sound casual but his thoughts were racing.

Bing turned to go and then seemed to change his mind. He grimaced and flexed his fingers in front of him in a nervous manner.

"Sarah's going to hate me, but I think I ought to give you a heads up on this." Charles waited. "She's invited a friend of hers round for lunch tomorrow. A woman called Cerys. Single parent, apparently. She's trying to get the pair of you together. Thought you might appreciate the intel. Forewarned etcetera."

Charles nodded. "Thanks."

Bing walked away whistling Colonel Bogey and Charles sighed in exasperation the last thing he wanted at the moment was well-meaning but interfering match-making on his behalf. He'd had enough trouble trying to get things together with the woman he cared about without having someone trying to pair him off with a stranger.

He glanced at the piece of paper in his hand and took out his mobile phone. The signal was often patchy but despite the overcast conditions there appeared to be a good signal today. He went into his apartment and dialled the number. The phone rang eight times before it was answered.

"Hello," it was undoubtedly Kate but she sounded fragile.

"Hi, it's Charles James. I understand you wanted to speak to me." His heart was inexplicably thumping with anticipation.

"I don't quite know how to put this, Charles, but I know about you and Molly."

There was no denying he was shocked and unsure where the conversation was likely to go.

"How? I mean, what do you know?" He wondered how much Molly had told Kate.

"Everything." Charles could hear the embarrassment in Kate's voice, "but that's not the point of my call. The fact is Molly's really down about it all. She didn't call you because she threw your number away before she found out the truth about that woman you were with at the charity ball."

Charles didn't know how to respond and stayed silent.

"Charles?"

"I'm still here. Sorry, I don't wish to seem rude but why are you calling me about this?"

He heard Kate take a deep breath. "I think Molly could be about to make a very big mistake. Kevin's asked her to go to charity dinner with him tonight at some country house hotel and Molly said she overhead him booking a double room for the night."

It was Charles' turn for a sharp intake of breath.

"He hasn't said anything to Molly about it." Kate continued, "and she's making out that it's all no big deal but I think she's confused and unhappy. He's wealthy, Charles, he's given her a really good job, a big pay rise and she told me he's paid off the rent on her flat for her. He's always had a soft spot for Molly. I suppose he'd be a catch but, "she hesitated, "I don't want her to do something else she'll regret."

Charles was listening in increasing horror. He felt a cold hand creeping around his heart. "Something else? Are you saying she regrets what happened with me?"

Kate raised her voice and said insistently, "No, Charles. I'm saying she regrets what she thinks she's thrown away."

Silence descended.

"So you think I can say something to change her mind," he said at last.

"Well, that was what I was going to suggest," Kate began,"but," she paused again and he could hear the hesitancy in her voice. "When you didn't call me back I called Molly myself a couple of hours ago and I told her not to be an idiot. We had an argument and she's turned her phone off. I've tried a few times but I can't get hold of her."

Charles was searching around in his mind, trying to find some inspiration. He glanced at his watch it was almost five thirty. He had a sudden wild idea but he didn't know what Molly would make of it or how she would react. It would be a long-shot, dreadfully over-dramatic but it was the only thing he could do and it would be worth a try. He'd stayed up here in North Wales for three days trying to take the subtle approach but he realised that simply wouldn't work with someone like Molly. If he wanted to stand any chance of retrieving the situation he would need to tackle it head-on. He searched around for a piece of paper and a pen.

"Kate, where is this dinner and what time does it start?"

X-X-X-X

It already felt like it had been a long day by the time Kevin buzzed Molly's flat and she pressed the entry button to let him into the building. She wasn't quite ready. If she was totally honest with herself, she didn't want to finish getting ready for the simple reason that she didn't want to go. Waking up late this morning her mind had been too fuzzy to give the evening a lot of thought. It was a long time since she had drunk that much and as well as regretting the headache, she regretted opening up to Kate and telling her the truth about herself and Charles as well as sharing the news that she had overheard Kevin planning what appeared to be a dirty weekend in which she was expected to play a starring role. She was determined that somehow it wouldn't come to that. She'd think of some way of getting around the problem. She didn't know how she was going to do it but there must be a way of turning him down politely and still keeping her job.

When a severely hung-over Kate had called her in the middle of the afternoon telling her how disgusted she was with Kevin and advising Molly in no uncertain terms to call him and tell him to piss-off and leave her alone, Molly had tried to reason with her and tell her she would manage it in her own way. Kate carried on being indignant and trying to tell her what to do and Molly had lost her patience.

"You aint my mother, Kate, so stop trying to act like one."

"Well, maybe you need your mother or father to talk some sense into you," she had retorted.

Kate had never met either of Molly's parents and whilst her mother might have had some sympathy with Kate's point of view Molly could see her father thinking that she could do worse for herself and Kevin seemed like a good bloke. Only twenty-four hours ago she had thought the same.

The truth was that she was nervous and worried enough without someone like Kate on the other end of a phone wittering on at her and telling her what to do without any intention of actually doing it herself. She did the only thing she felt she could; she turned her phone off and left it switched off.

Kevin was wearing an immaculate dinner suit and he looked particularly well this evening. There seemed to be an extra spring in his step and she was sure he was wearing different aftershave. He complimented her on the dress she was wearing, a red, figure-hugging mid-calf length dress she had worn for the Christmas party last year. She hadn't taken it out of the wardrobe since but reckoned it might be suitable for this occasion. Kevin seemed in very good spirits and kept up the conversation on the journey. She seldom had to say very much but it suited her that way. She wasn't in the mood for conversation.

It took nearly an hour to reach the hotel in Surrey. It was a traditional four star country house hotel set in acres of its own grounds and approached via a tree- lined drive. The house was a large, ivy-clad, Victorian property which had been extended to provide a modern multi-functional conference suite which catered for weddings, parties and dinners such as these. Kevin parked in a far corner of the car park despite the fact there were spaces nearer the entrance and taking her arm led her politely into the hotel.

They were directed to the Oak Suite where drinks and canapés were being served in a foyer area. The room was full of dinner-suited men, mostly of Charles's age or older and women who appeared in most cases to be the wives or other halves of those present. Molly was definitely the youngest person in the room and had the disconcerting experience of being asked by one elderly-looking lady if she was Kevin's daughter. She shook her head and replied that they worked together but the lady seemed to be hard of hearing and said something about there being a strong family likeness. Molly couldn't be bothered to correct her. She looked around her and realised how it must look to everyone here. Kevin Jones, wealthy, dynamic, charming and turning up with a woman young enough to be his daughter on his arm. In that moment for the very first time she felt contempt for him and she resolved that no matter what it took she was going home tonight and he was not going to use his position or this occasion to persuade or flatter her into staying with him. If she had to walk all the way back to London in four-inch heels she would. Making this firm decision cheered her for a while but she still had to get through several hours of this dinner before she could find a way to make her escape.

She saw Kevin on the opposite side of the room talking to a blonde-haired woman who Molly guessed to be in her early forties. He seemed to know her well and she was laughing at something he said. She glanced at the display boards in the foyer outlining the charity's work with disabled adults and she saw a photograph of the woman standing with volunteers and managed to read that her name was Diane and she was one of the fundraisers. The master of ceremonies announced that dinner was being served and Kevin returned to her side to lead her into the dining room with his hand lightly placed in the small of her back.

Compared to the charity ball on Tuesday evening it was quite a sombre and formal affair. The people on her table were polite and friendly but considerably older than Molly and she found little in common with their topics of conversation. As the evening wore on she grew increasingly bored and the constant anxiety about whether Kevin was going to make a pass at her and if so when and how she would politely repel it threw a malaise over her. Try as she may she couldn't lift her spirits. It had been a mistake to come here with Kevin. Kate had been right and she should have listened.

The dinner broke up fairly early. There was no dancing this time, merely some speeches, awards and thank yous and then people began to leave. Kevin appeared to know many of the people well. He was shaking hands and kissing the ladies on the cheek as they prepared to leave. He and Diane seemed to be on particularly good terms and she saw him chatting to her more than the others and hold her hand just that bit longer than anyone else. Molly waited patiently in the lobby for Kevin to finish his goodbyes. When he finally came back over to her she thought she detected a slightly sheepish expression on his face.

Lowering his voice he said, "I haven't been entirely honest with you about why I asked you here. I have a room booked for the night." Molly froze ready to launch into her brush-off speech. He looked into her eyes, "I wondered if you'd mind joining me there because there's something I need to talk to you about."

X-X-X-X

The traffic had been a nightmare. Charles had left Nant Glyn House within fifteen minutes of putting down the phone to Kate. He had showered and changed as fast as was possible and was turning out onto the main road just before six o'clock. He hadn't even paused to speak to Bing as he was in such a hurry to be away. As soon as he had reached the motorway his problems began. Stop-start traffic made worse by a series of minor accidents and just sheer volume of summer weekend traffic had slowed his progress considerably. He had realised that a two hundred mile trip south was going to take time even without taking a break but he hadn't expected it to take five hours. All the way he had been thinking about Molly and what to say to her. He was hoping that just turning up would be enough to show her how much he cared and knowing the truth about Giselle she might at least be prepared to talk to him, listen and give him a chance. Most of all he desperately wanted to stop her making a mistake with a man like Kevin. He didn't believe that Molly seriously wanted Kevin. It was clear in his mind that the only person he wanted her to be with was himself.

When Charles pulled into the car park of The Huntsman Hotel it was after eleven o'clock. He looked around him and eventually spotted Kevin's Jaguar. It had been parked discreetly in a far corner almost obscured by some bushes. The distinctive silver car with its personalised number plate was familiar to him. The last time he had seen it, Kevin had been driving away from Nant Glyn House taking Molly back to London.

He parked and got out of his car. He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. It had seemed like a perfectly logical plan of action when he left Nant Glyn House but more than five hours later he started to see it from another angle and his feet were beginning to feel tepid. He steeled himself.

"Focus, Charles. Let's just do this!"

He strode off across the gravel to the entrance of the hotel with his purpose firmly set in his mind.

The late night-male receptionist on the main desk looked up from his computer as Charles approached him and smiled calling out, "Can I help you, Sir."

Charles adopted a military tone of authority, "Yes, I need to speak to someone staying here, urgently."

"I see," the man said. "May I have their name, please?"

"Molly Dawes." Charles hated saying her name aloud in this context and dreaded the man confirming his fears.

There was a pause as he searched the records. "I don't have a guest of that name on the system," he said at last.

Charles shook his head. "Of course, it's probably under the name Kevin Jones."

He checked again. "Yes, he is staying here. Would you like me to call up to him?"

"Yes, please and ask if Miss Dawes could come down here."

"May I have your name, Sir?" Charles was worried. If he gave his name it was entirely possible that she might refuse to come down and speak to him and that would render his journey futile.

"Could you just tell her it's a friend and it's urgent, please?"

The man looked slightly uncomfortable but he did as he was asked. Charles heard him repeat the request before replacing the receiver.

"Someone's coming down to see you."

Charles wandered away from the desk and stood, feet apart, hands on hips, feeling the nerves kick in. He realised now that he would seem like a Victorian father, demanding that Molly think of her honour and leave the hotel at once and she would have every right to tell him to 'piss off' and mind his own business. He bit his bottom lip, a nervous habit since childhood and felt the palms of his hands growing damp with the anticipation of waiting for her.

When he heard the creak of the old staircase as someone started to descend he looked up expecting to see Molly but instead he was greeted by the sight of Kevin Jones coming down the stairs. He was still wearing his dinner jacket but he had taken off his tie and his shirt was open at the neck. It looked as if he had been about to get undressed but had pulled some clothes back on in haste. He glanced across the lobby and caught sight of Charles.

"Charles? What on earth are you doing here?" Kevin's astonishment at the sight of someone he had only met once at an outdoor management training centre in North Wales, standing in the lobby of a country house hotel in Surrey, and late at night, was beyond anything Charles had ever witnessed before. Kevin's mouth almost dropped open.

"_You_ wanted to talk to Molly?"

Charles noted the emphasis on the word 'you' and felt even more nervous but tried to maintain his resolve and nodded.

"Well you can't," Kevin said with a tinge of annoyance, "and what business of yours would it be anyway?"

"We're…" Charles hesitated and searched for the right word eventually deciding on, "close. And I don't think whether I speak to her is your decision, Kevin."

Kevin's reply was terse, "You can't speak to her because she isn't here."

"Where is she then?" Charles asked.

Kevin took a deep breath, "She went home in a taxi half an hour ago."

Charles felt a wave of relief wash over him. He concluded that she must have seen sense and told Kevin where he could get off. It was no wonder he was irritated.

Kevin must have seen the look on Charles face change and said, "I have no idea why you're here but it looks as though it's complicated. Would you care for a drink in the bar?" He indicated the direction with his hand and Charles felt he ought to do Kevin the courtesy of at least explaining his sudden arrival and interruption. They crossed the lobby and went through to the Horseshoe bar where Kevin ordered himself a whisky and Charles took a soft drink. They sat down at a table in the corner and Kevin drank a mouthful of scotch before saying,

"Why are you here, Charles and why did you get someone to call up to my room asking for Molly?" He gave him a long hard look.

"I thought she was with you," Charles replied, "I'd heard from a friend that she was going to this dinner with you and I was under the impression she might be staying here."

"With me?" Kevin supplied.

Charles nodded.

"Why would you think she was with me?" Kevin was staring at him without any hint of amusement.

Charles felt very uncomfortable but was determined to see this through. "I understood that you've offered her a very good job with a big pay rise and helped her out in other ways as well as showing a lot of interest in her over the years. I thought she might be with you."

Kevin's eyes widened as he listened to Charles' summary of his dealings with Molly.

"So you assumed that I'd invite her to a dinner in an out of the way place and take advantage of her?" Charles was feeling increasingly embarrassed as Kevin continued the assessment.

He wanted to say something in his defence. "Well, tell me what you'd think if you saw a wealthy, single man placing a young woman under an obligation to him?"

Kevin looked at Charles and shook his head in disbelief. "I suppose that is what you'd see, isn't it. I suppose that's what most people would see. Some older guy using his money and influence to take advantage of an impressionable young woman."

Charles couldn't decide if Kevin was angry or annoyed. His tone of voice was neutral as he continued, "You know, I might have agreed with you if we were talking about someone other than me." He took a deep breath. "You're right. I am single but not through choice. You can't choose the person you fall in love with and not everyone gets a happy ending." Kevin fell silent. He sipped his whisky and appeared to be weighing up the situation. Eventually, he looked Charles in the eye.

"Do you know what was happening here tonight?"

Charles shook his head.

"It was a fundraising dinner for a charity I've supported for fifteen years. The problem for me is that twelve years ago, when I met the woman I love, she was already married to someone else. She's a fundraiser for this charity and her husband is severely disabled after a car accident. She's a good person, Charles, and I have to accept that part of her will always love her husband. Most of her life is spent caring for him. But very occasionally on days like today we have a chance to be together. He's in respite care at the moment and it was just an opportunity for us to spend a night together. So you were right, I'm not here alone. But Diane is worried about talk and gossip among people she knows and I don't want to do anything to make her life difficult. It was expedient for me to have a date of my own for a few hours."

Charles realised at last what had happened. "So you asked Molly to come with you as cover?"

Kevin laughed a little, "Yes, I asked Molly to help me with a little bit of subterfuge. Diane was given a lift home at the end of the dinner and returned here in a taxi a little later. The same taxi that then took Molly home."

Charles ran his fingers through his hair. He and Kate had been so wrong about Kevin. His apology was sincere. "I'm sorry, Kevin, I had no idea. Please forgive me for turning up here, like this."

Kevin smiled, "I don't blame you. It seems as if you were only looking out for Molly, just as I am. She's a good girl. She reminds me of what I used to be like when I was her age and if I'm honest she's a bit like a daughter to me, a daughter I don't have and probably never will."

He drained the last of his whisky.

"You say you and Molly are close?"

Charles shrugged, "It's not exactly been plain sailing up till now. If I'm honest, anything but that."

Kevin smirked, "I guessed as much. So you'd like to be a bit closer but things aren't quite right between you?" Charles nodded.

"Well, if I'm not mistaken," Kevin began, "Molly is a pretty miserable young lady at the moment certainly if this evening is anything to go by. In fact, I think you'd be doing me a big favour if you'd cheer her up a bit."

Charles grimaced. "I'd loved to. But I might need a helping hand."

X-X-X-X

"Where are we going?" Molly enquired.

"Do you trust me?" Kevin replied holding the taxi door open for her.

She nodded.

"Then, just get in."

She climbed in and he sat alongside her. The phone call just before midday on Sunday morning as she had been mooching about in her pyjamas had taken her by surprise. Kevin had asked her to be ready to go out in forty five minutes, smartly dressed and he would be picking her up in a taxi. It sped through central London. She watched where it was going but it was only when they drew up outside a very familiar hotel that she turned to look at him,

"What's all this about?"

"Just wait and see." He was deliberately being mysterious and she began to wonder if working for him would always be like this.

He paid the taxi driver and tucking her arm through his led her into the hotel and across the lobby to the bar. She stopped at the entrance.

"Why are we here?"

"We're a bit early. I thought we might just have a drink to kill some time."

He led her by the hand to a table in the corner. She realised it was the same one she had been sitting at three months ago the last time she had been here.

"Sit down there. I'll get some drinks and be back in a minute."

She shook her head, still wondering what was going on. Kevin left her and wandered away to the bar. She watched him intently wondering why he had brought her here of all places. His behaviour was unusual. He was normally more to the point about everything and she was beginning to think that if this job was going to involve lots of sudden, unexplained excursions without notice and at unsociable times it could prove to be very disruptive. It was surprisingly crowded as there was a weekend exhibition taking place in the large function room and visitors were spilling into the bar for a lunchtime drink. Molly lost sight of him.

Half a minute later she glanced back towards the bar and her heart gave a lurch of recognition. Charles was standing with his back to the bar gazing in her direction, looking at no one else in the room but her. He began to walk towards her moving with slow deliberate steps ever nearer, his eyes never leaving her face. She couldn't look away and her breathing slowed in anticipation of him reaching her. When he was standing only three feet away he said,

"Would you mind if I join you, if this seat is free?"

Molly shook her head, "Kevin's at the bar. I'm here with him."

Charles smiled, "You're not, I'm afraid. He just left. He said goodbye and he'll see you tomorrow, he hopes."

Molly's mouth dropped open, "What are you talking about?"

Charles sat down and holding out his hand to her said, "Hello, my name's Charles James. I was divorced three months ago. I'm not involved with or seeing anyone else and I'd like to buy you a drink."

The truth of what was happening began to dawn on Molly. This was Kevin's doing. He had waved his magic wand and brought them both back to the place where it had all begun. They were starting again. She smirked at the thought and then smiled broadly, unable to contain her true feelings on seeing him any longer.

He saw the delight in her face as she said, "Hello Charles. I'm Molly Dawes. I'm single and a drink would be lovely, thanks."

X-X-X-X

Bing's text message to Charles was short and to the point:

_'Where the fuck are you? Sarah's friend is here for lunch and she's ready to serve up my balls as an appetiser if you don't show'_

X-X-X-X

Their clothes lay on the bedroom floor, the wine glasses abandoned on the bedside table, phones switched off and discarded in the joy of finally being alone together without anything to disturb or hinder them and all misunderstandings finally laid to rest.

Molly giggled as Charles slowly worked his way up her body, reverentially kissing each bump of her spine until he reached the nape of her neck and began to nuzzle her ear. She sighed, thrilled by the warmth of his skin next to hers. He rolled her over, casting an appreciative eye over the beauty of her body and taking all the time in the world to explore every wonderful curve. He pulled her in close to him for a deep, seemingly endless kiss. They paused to draw breath and he gazed at her almost overcome by the joy of finally seeing her here in his arms, those beautiful eyes watching him intently, her dark hair fanned out on the pillow like a halo around her head. A gentle smile was hovering on her lips as she said softly,

"You deliberately asked for this room again, didn't you?" She was gazing up into his deep brown eyes.

He pulled a face and wrinkled his nose slightly and she gave him a playful punch. He nodded his head, "Well, with a bit of help from Kevin but it's all based on sound principles. Didn't you learn anything from the course, Molly?"

It was her turn to pull a face, "Map reading, climbing, rubbish raft building." She started laughing.

He mumbled, "I didn't mean that," as he leant in to kiss the hollow at the base of her throat.

She gasped, but curiosity made her place her hands either side of his head, the soft curls of his hair winding around her fingers as she raised his head to make him look at her again. The laughter was still in her eyes and she said, "You're distracting me. What was I supposed to have learned?"

He sighed, "Well, the importance of fully evaluating any activity undertaken, putting strategies in place to improve things next time around and make them even more effective when repeated."

A cheeky smile was hovering around the corners of his mouth; he lowered his voice and held her gaze. "Care to test it out?"

She stared at him and pursed her lips trying not to laugh, "There is just one flaw in your theory."

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"The repeat part." She gave him a meaningful look.

He shook his head slightly and looked blank.

"You've really got no idea just how drunk you were that night, have you?" she continued in astonishment.

Understanding started to dawn on him. His mouth dropped open and his eyes widened in surprise, "Are you saying that on that night we didn't…."

She nodded trying not to giggle.

His expression changed, to one of mock seriousness as he said in a hushed tone, "Oh God. No pressure, but it looks like we're just going to have to get it right first time, then."

Molly laughed and pulled him down towards her.

"Oh come here, you numpty!"

The End


End file.
